Devil Take The Hindmost
by TaleCaster
Summary: Voldemort discovers his connection with Harry Potter shortly after his defeat, and star-sworn enemies unite. They never should have left Harriet behind with those muggles! My Version of the 'Voldemort befriends Harry' trope. Fem!Harry. Eventual LV/HP DARK!
1. Friend or Foe

**This is a self-indulgent side project ;)**

 **I'm hoping to keep it short and simple. Voldemort will be his badass self, but with an utterly out of character fondness for Harry for no other reason than I want to write it that way heehee. It will be LV/HP eventually.**

There's an exception to every rule, there's always one that gets away, and to every sociopath there's always one to whom they grant mercy. There's no rhyme or reason for this. It could be because the victim cried, or smiled, or laughed or begged; it could be because they fought back, or because there was resignation in their eyes. For whatever reason, there is always one that gets a free pass. For Voldemort, who was never one to do things by halves, it was Harriet Potter.

Harry tried for what must have been the thousandth time to climb the plastic bars of her play pen, before promptly falling back on her arse. It was in that moment she first heard him:

" _Utter insanity!"_ His voice was coarse, and distant, but it rang as clearly as the spring birds outside. Harry stood once more and moved around in a circle, trying to locate the man the voice belonged to. The room was just as before, door shut, curtains closed, bright wonderful looking toys that she wasn't to play with filling most of the floor, but she was still alone.

She caught sight of her five, two inch wide building blocks and was quickly distracted as she decided to make a tower to stand on. It did not work out well.

She stamped her feet in frustration as her lip quivered and eyes began to water.

Voldemort had had enough and quickly closed down the connection. He'd meant what he'd said; the child's actions were almost the very definition of insanity, but he had to wonder if it weren't he that was suffering from insanity. It was either that or the Fates did indeed have a twisted sense of humour. That he should have a direct link to his star-sworn enemy was absurd, but the _insane_ thing was that he was trying to nurture it.

He'd discovered it only days after Halloween when an overwhelming sense of longing, sadness and vulnerability washed over him. Voldemort was nothing but a fiery vortex of rage at that point, so he knew right away that it wasn't his own emotions he was feeling. Besides, he'd destroyed any such weakness in himself long ago. Intrigued despite himself, he allowed the feelings into his mind in an attempt to trace their source: he supposed it was the scholarly thing to do, and it wasn't like he could do much else at this point.

He hadn't been at all surprised that it led him to a child; that kind of vulnerability was too pure to be anything else, but the identity of the child gave him pause to think. At first he'd laughed… a lot… perhaps maniacally so? He'd laughed at the absurdity; at his own stupidity; and at the fact the girl had been left with uncaring muggles.

That had been just over a year ago, and since then Voldemort had stopped laughing.

In the early days he used the connection recreationally, looking in on the child every so often like one might use a TV. He imagined the ways he could make use of the girl once she was old enough to serve him – perhaps she could help him return to power. He discovered he could access and trigger memories and thought it would be funny to give her nightmares of her mummy dying, but it wasn't at all amusing when you could feel the anguish and he only tried that once. He decided it was just because she was so young. He wasn't a total monster after all! But as time passed and it became clear that the muggles were never going to accept Harriet, his rage began to grow once more, only now it wasn't aimed at her, it was on behalf of her.

Magical life was a precious thing. He was willing to snuff out Harry Potter's life to protect his own, but those vile, disgusting muggles had no right to treat her like so much rubbish.

He spent most of the time concentrating on his own sorry situation, but at some point she'd scratched her way onto his priority list, and second from top at that. Their lives were dependent on each other and they had been tied together in a very literal spiritual sense, but more than that he _wanted_ to help her, to protect her. And just this once, he indulged his feelings.


	2. Tom

Harry was once more dumped in the play pen in the spare room, doomed to spend the next few hours bored and alone. This was a punishment. She got punished a lot, but rarely knew why. Harry wasn't even three yet, but sometimes she thought her aunt liked to pretend Harry didn't exist. Sometimes, when she was cooking, Petunia would place both children together in the pen downstairs and let them watch telly or play together, and of course whenever they were out they were forced into each other's company, but she didn't really like the idea of the girl getting too close to her son. She feared Harry would do something freaky to hurt him, or else make him think being a freak was ok, which would just cause her boy suffering later on. She was going to make sure her son knew how special he was, that being magical wasn't a gift it was a curse, and unfortunately that meant Harry would have to know it too. The girl was a pleasant enough thing and not half as much trouble as Vernon made out, but she couldn't have her thinking she was better than Duddy.

Oh, how she'd regret this course of action in years to come.

Harry stared at the bars of the pen. There had to be a way out.

" _Stop."_ Came the harsh, but now familiar voice. _"You can't get out yet. Just find something else to do."_ She knew it was a command, but ignored it and instead jumped up so her hands were hanging from the top bar. _"Great_ … _now what are you going to do?"_ She let out a huff, not understanding sarcasm she still had a suspicion he was laughing at her.

"Dow outside!" She proclaimed even as her grip failed her and back down she went.

" _You can't go out."_ His voice was sharp, but he wasn't particularly cross with her, more her situation. _"In a few years maybe, but for now you should, I don't know, find something to play with."_ He wondered what on earth he was doing spending time here when she was so young. It wasn't like he felt anything paternal for her or any such nonsense. He supposed it was just that he didn't want her to feel so alone in her misery. He could shut out her feelings, but he'd still _know_ , and it's not like he had a lot to distract him from that knowledge.

Harry looked around and picked up an old tattered story book of Dudley's. She had quite a few of those, as he didn't like them at all.

"Tom read stowy." She said while sitting cross legged and placing the book before her. He sighed.

" _No."_

"Tom read stowy, pweeeze!" At times like this he wanted his body back just so he could find a desk to bang his head against.

" _No."_ Her shoulders sagged in defeat. She knew it was pointless arguing with Tom when he gave one word answers. _"I'll teach you a while."_ Came his compromise and she cheered up immediately. She loved it when he taught her things, but didn't like to ask because she knew how annoyed he got with her – he didn't say, but she could feel it sometimes and she didn't ever want him to stop talking to her because she was a bother.

Voldemort had to learn by trial and error that two to three year olds could only deal with absolute basics. He used the story and picture books to develop her pronunciation and vocabulary: colours, shapes, animals, counting etc, and even had her recognising that a couple of words represented sounds, though she just thought they were funny shapes that meant sounds. It was a start.

It had surprised Voldemort how quickly they had gotten used to each other, though he supposed she didn't know that having a man you could talk to in your head wasn't normal. It had certainly been a shock to discover he didn't mind her calling him Tom. When she'd first asked his name, he'd told her to call him 'my Lord'… that was probably the start of his education in what children are capable of. Her closest attempts were 'ward' and 'my wood'… 'Voldemort' wasn't even attempted. He'd always hated his plain muggle name, but had seen the light when he realised its simplicity was actually a blessing as there was no way she could butcher 'Tom'.

He tried to make a point of always speaking to her before bed, even if he hadn't at any other point in the day. He could only suppose it was his own memories of loneliness that made him so determined to make sure she never felt that way again. He told her stories to drift off to. If she'd been sent to bed very early he would sometimes tell her all about the wonderful world of magic out there waiting for her. The only time he abandoned this routine followed the first time she said 'I wuv you, Tom,' before falling asleep. Her family said it to each other all the time and although she wasn't completely sure what it meant, she was sure she liked Tom much more than them and wished he could take care of her. He'd frozen when she said that and immediately regressed to his Dark Lord persona, but after only a few days of her crying out for him, he gave in and accepted the phrase as her way of saying goodbye and the like… nothing more…

* * *

By the time she was five she was so far ahead of her classmates that Mrs Griffiths pulled her aside to ask whether she had a private tutor at home, to which she innocently responded that yes, she did, and he was the best teacher in the whole world!

She hated going to school. Classes were great, and heaven knows she enjoyed being away from home, but the social situation there ruined it all. Dudley made sure that nobody wanted to be her friend, and where most children would avoid her, some went out of their way to make her life miserable meaning she spent most break times hiding. She begged Tom to come keep her company and for reasons beyond him, he did whenever he could.

"But we should go now!" Harry whined, but Tom was having none of it.

" _Absolutely not."_ His tone left no doubt that he couldn't be moved on this issue, but she tried anyway. Between her home life and school life she was thoroughly miserable, and had decided she would run away. It seemed like such a simple solution. Tom was just a big meany.

"But it would be fun!" She tried to persuade The Dark Lord. He was about to explain they had vastly different ideas about what was fun, but she kept going. "I could get a job like uncle Vernon to earn pennies and we could camp in the woods where there's no other people and you could show me the magical world and oh, I want to go to the fair again, but this time I want to go on the rides!" Her innocence was endearing, but Tom forced himself to sneer.

"And what job would you do?" He'd meant that as the opening question to what was to be a cold hard reality check, but she didn't miss a beat before answering.

"I can be a ballerina ninja who makes chocolate!" She had him there: he really wasn't sure where to even start with that one. And she seemed so sure…

"Hey, freak!" Harriet's heart dropped as she heard her cousin's hateful soprano behind her, and she turned to face the music… and look for the best escape route. "Talking to your imaginary friend again?" His friends all laughed cruelly.

"He's not imaginary." She insisted, though her voice was quiet. She knew it would make no difference, whatever she said would be mocked. There was really no point trying to defend herself, but she had to try when it was Tom being attacked. Voldemort would have been touched if he wasn't so consumed with hatred for these filthy muggles. The only thing that kept him from going mad from frustration at not being able to teach them a lesson was the promise to do so in the future. He never forgot a face, and tried to commit every word and action against his Harriet to memory. Her suffering would end and she'd have a wonderful life. These vile creatures wouldn't be so lucky.

By the time she had gotten away, she had tears streaming down her cheeks and scraped up knees. Why was everyone so mean? Tom was real! He had to be: he was all she had. But the more she heard it from Dudley and the more she thought about it, her faith began to waiver.

" _Silly child, of course I'm real."_ She frowned. How was she supposed to know that for sure?

"If I'm silly, then maybe you _are_ just make-believe." He laughed.

" _It's because you're so silly that there is no way you could ever conjure up someone like me."_ She supposed he was rather mean about people, but maybe she just wasn't a very nice person inside. _"Have you forgotten all the things I've taught you?"_ He asked sternly, attempting a different approach. He supposed it was only right that one questioned the legitimacy of the voice in their head.

She shook her head immediately. "No! Never ever!" She bit her lip.

" _How could you have made me up, when I've taught you things you didn't know before?"_ He tried to reason. She pondered this for a moment before coming to a sure conclusion.

"I must be a genus." He couldn't help but smile.

" _Yes, yes indeed you are."_ He said indulgently, for once ignoring the mispronunciation. _"But what about this?"_ A sudden pain exploded in Harry's head. He'd discovered his ability to hurt her pretty early on, but very rarely used it. She was so desperate for attention that it was easy to make her behave by threatening to withhold simple things like lessons and stories of magic. He kept the pain going as he spoke. It wasn't too bad, he certainly knew he could put a lot more force into it if he wanted to, but this was just enough to make his point. _"Is this just your imagination?"_

"Owww," she whimpered, "No. No, Tom, stop it!"

" _Well? If pain is real, where is it coming from?"_

"Ok, ok, you're real!" She all but shouted, cradling her head with teary eyes when he lifted the pain. "But, but then why can't everyone else hear you? Is it because I'm a witch?"

" _You'll have to wait until you're older for the answer to that. For now, just know that you are very special, even among wizardkind."_

"So no one else gets a Tom?" He didn't know whether to be amused or disturbed.

" _No, Harriet, just you."_


	3. No Regrets

From the age of seven Tom started to teach Harry rudimentary magic, and she loved every minute of it. Not only did it make her feel special, it was increasingly necessary. The more she practised the more she got caught, which got her into trouble with both the Dursleys and her friend; the Dursleys for being a freak, and Tom for being careless. On top of that, Tom insisted she study hard, and accepted nothing less than her best efforts at school, but the more she excelled, the more her relatives mistreated her. She couldn't win for losing, so she had to adapt. Floating pencils soon transferred to unlocking her cupboard in order to steal food at night. She felt like Cinderella, only instead of a Fairy Godmother, she had Tom.

" _Don't ever make that comparison again!"_ Speak of the Devil.

"Get out of my head!" She whispered to herself whilst scrubbing that night's dishes, dishes from a meal she had helped prepare, but not partaken in. "No, wait don't! Just… mind your business." She hastily added, knowing all too well that he would indeed leave her all alone until she apologised sincerely and he was adequately mollified.

Tom was quiet as he took in her surroundings. One day she would see that doing such thankless chores for her so-called family was beneath her dignity, but for now she was insistent that they weren't so bad, forgetting that he could read her like a book; he knew how much she resented muggles as a whole. He may have had a part to play in that, but really, they hadn't helped themselves, never given her any cause to doubt his poisonous words. It was actually quite the opposite as their every action against her proved him right. No, she was fighting the thought that she didn't want to be a bad person. He could wait for her to lose that fight. Oh, he knew she would never be like him, he didn't ever want her to be, but it was shocking how quickly a conscience could be chipped away and he just needed her to be willing to at least put her needs above other people's.

For years now she'd wanted to run away. He got mad at her every time she brought it up though; partly because she wouldn't have to if she just took her relatives in hand - he doubted they'd need much to put them in their place. Mostly though, he was frustrated that he couldn't help her. If he wasn't so weak he could stay to watch over her constantly, or else possess someone to help her. As it were, the world was much too dangerous a place for such a young girl to make her own way.

It was only due to his lack of other options that he eventually agreed to show her to Diagon alley: she simply wanted to see the place, but he had other plans, and if everything worked out he would acquiesce to her ridiculous run away scheme.

"You want me to what?" Harry asked in disbelief.

" _You heard me. I'll not repeat myself."_ Harry glared at the wall. _"How did you suppose we were to pay for this little trip?"_ He asked as though he were speaking to a five year old, which she did not appreciate because she was seven and three quarters, thank you very much.

"Magic!" She waved a hand dismissively.

" _Oh yes, of course! Why didn't I think of that?"_ Sarcasm was heavy on his voice. To be fair she did know better. She knew they wouldn't even be in this situation if the answer were so simple. But still, stealing from people was wrong, and it was a really basic wrong too. What would happen to her if she got caught? _"You won't get caught."_ She couldn't help but take comfort in his reassurance: Tom was always right, even when she didn't want him to be.

"Oh, alright." She decided before jumping from the kitchen chair to grab her school bag, marching to the door before she could change her mind. Tom had been expecting much more opposition on the morality front, so was pleasantly surprised. Maybe there was hope for her after all if her desire to visit the Alley was all it took to toss aside civil law. He grinned.

She walked for over forty minutes to the town centre, where she took a seat by the fountain as instructed. It was lunch time and this square was full of people in smart cloths busily moving to and fro. It didn't take long before a woman in her mid-twenties sat on the bench beside her, too busy talking on her phone to pay any attention to a lone child. The woman's handbag remained on her shoulder, but was open and gaping not a foot from Harry. This was going to be so easy!

" _Not her."_ Harry huffed as Tom shut her down. Couldn't he tell she was trying to psych herself up? And that would have been a great first try – she wouldn't even have to use magic. _"One of the reasons not to do it. Using magic allows you to distance yourself from the theft."_ She huffed again at him reading her thoughts and starting thinking 'lalala' as loud as she could, though this only lasted seconds before he sent a warning twinge through her scar. He wouldn't use pain to punish her just for being annoying, but it served to remind her that there would be a punishment of some kind if she continued to push her luck.

" _Fine! Then who?"_ She was getting better at talking to Tom in her mind. People already hated her, she didn't need them thinking her mad too.

Tom drew her attention to a group of men walking quickly through the crowd as they talked in hushed tones.

" _How do you even notice these people?"_ She asked as she moved to follow them.

" _You would know if you listened to what I say."_

" _You say a lot of things."_ She ducked under an arm and found the men.

" _Brat. You have no idea what people would give for the honour of being taught by me."_ He ignored her petulant 'Pfft' and directed her to concentrate on her task.

It was difficult to do whilst moving through a crowd, much more difficult than when she'd practised at home. She focused all her energies on opening a briefcase, holding it open a little way and then levitating out the owner's wallet. Her heart was pounding so fast and hard she thought for sure everyone else would be able to hear it, but at Tom's praise and encouragement she went to the next bag, then the next and before she knew it she was collapsing back on the bench. Her chest was basically vibrating as adrenalin rushed through her. She'd done it. She'd actually done it! And she didn't feel bad, she felt on top of the world!

Tom didn't let her enjoy the victory though. He showed her a couple of purses and money clips she could take from where she sat, and it was so much easier to do while she felt so free. With so much foot traffic no one noticed the odd wallet making its own way between their legs. It was only when someone on the far side of the square shouted that his money was missing that Tom said it was time to go.

Once she'd finally calmed down she set about counting up the money, under Tom's shrewd eye, of course. She recounted a few times before Tom's patience ran dry and he confirmed that they did indeed have over ten thousand pounds.

"What are they doing walking around with so much money?" She couldn't help but blurt out loud.

" _Hush! Some people just do. That's why you have to pick your targets well, look at how they walk, how they dress. These are the people who'll spend over one hundred pounds on a bottle of champagne just to start a meal out and…"_ He stopped when he realised she wasn't listening at all. She was excitedly trying to stuff the entire amount into a purse with bright green dogs all over it.

" _Hey Tom, can we go to the sweet shop?!"_

" _Harriet!"_ She froze at his tone. He sounded mad.

"… _y,yes?"_ Why was he mad at her?

Voldemort had to pull out of her mind for a moment to ground himself, to remind himself that she was just a child. Even after all this time, sometimes he still struggled not to treat Harry the way he would a death eater.

He opened the connection once more to find her crying. Gods, how he hated the crying.

"Mm, M, I'm so-hiccup-sorry, Tom." She really hated it when he left her so abruptly like that, but it was even worse now as she had been left in the middle of town with no idea how to get home and thousands of pounds of stolen money.

He wanted to reassure her, but instead he asked: _"Why are you sorry?"_ She thought for a moment.

"B,because I wasn't paying attention?" He sighed, supposing that would do.

They didn't go to the sweet shop, but Tom did promise that if she was good, she could buy some wizard sweets when they visited London.

* * *

There was just one more condition she had to meet. It was the one thing he wanted to put off forever, but knew he had to deal with while she was still impressionable and while he could control the narrative. Time to tell her all about the Potters.

He waited until she was home alone one day a few weeks later before sitting her down to face the music. He imagined there would be more tears.

" _Harriet, tell me what I've told you about me."_ This was clearly to be a serious talk, so she answered right away. She always remembered everything about Tom, good and bad.

"You are known as Lord Voldemort. You are the Dark Lord, which means you are the best at dark magic and lead an army of other dark wizards. You are a big meany!" She couldn't help but say before sticking out her tongue. He supposed 'big meany' was an understatement, so let her continue in the hopes of getting this over with. "You don't like muggles and had an accident fighting light wizards that made you a spirit… but you're not dead. A bit of your soul is being kept safe in me, which is why we can talk." She thought for a moment more. "Oh! You can talk to snakes and you think you're more smarter than everyone else" He was about to tell her off for being cheeky, but she broke into a sweet smile, "And I love you, Tom." Damn it, she was a devil.

" _Just 'smarter'. Not 'more smarter'."_ He settled on a correction as he felt the love flowing from her. No point chastising her when she was about to hate him anyway. _"Harriet, I want to tell you what happened when I lost my powers."_ Her eyes were wide with interest. _"Harriet,"_ he paused. He'd been over every way he could tell her this; starting at the beginning, telling her of the prophesy, going into more details of the war – he'd told her all about wars in the hopes of helping her understand that soldiers die in wars and sacrifices are made. In the end he just wanted to get it over with. He never imagined caring for anything the way he cared for Harriet. Maybe he had taken a metaphorical blow to the head when he was thrown from his body. _"On the night I lost my body, I was going after a family of light wizards. The Potters."_ He only gave a moment for that to sink in before continuing. _"I killed your father first and then followed your mother upstairs and into the nursery…"_

"NO!" Harry shouted. She knew what came next, she'd dreamt it.

" _My true target that night was the Potter child, but when your mother refused to give you up, I killed her and then turned my wand on you."_ He only stopped because he thought she was about to hyperventilate. _"Harry, breathe out."_ He tried to help, but she shook her head, trying to make him go away he realised. He needed to finish this. _"I turned my wand on you and cast the killing curse, but the spell rebounded and hit me instead."_

As expected, Harry completely broke down, sobs wracking her body. He could feel her heartbreak; he'd never felt such a powerful emotion, not even his rage after that night had winded him like this.

"I don't believe you!" She cried eventually. "You're lying! You… you." He stayed quiet and let her work through it. Her emotions where so powerful they were beginning to bother him though and he was itching to shut her up, but he didn't, and really, that told him more than anything else how much he cared for this child. That he would subject himself to something like this for the sake of another! He just hoped this wasn't going to be an ongoing trend. "I trusted you!"

For over an hour, she was completely inconsolable. She almost couldn't comprehend how her best friend had killed her family. It just wasn't right. Tom didn't make a secret of the fact he killed and hurt people, but up until now it had felt rather distant. She knew he did it, but didn't care, because that was his business and he was everything to her. But now he was telling her not only that he killed her parents and tried to kill her, but that it was his fault that her life was like this.

" _No, I would never have sent a magical child to live with muggles."_

"Go away!" He was about to speak again, to tell her to stop shouting at the very least, but she just got louder and louder. "Go away! Go away! Go away!" And so he did, and she ran to her bed to cry herself to sleep.

She didn't feel any better for waking, going about her routine and doing her chores through a dense fog. She'd never felt so lost. Tom had always been there for her. She couldn't remember the time before him. As days turned into weeks, even the Dursleys noticed that something was wrong and Petunia started talking about taking her to the doctor. That was the trigger she needed to start processing her feelings of betrayal.

Dudley used to tease her that she would be sent to a doctor because having an imaginary friend made her crazy and they would take her far away until she got rid of him. Now she associated doctors with losing Tom and she realised she didn't want that. Not ever. She loved Tom.

" _Tom, Tom, Tom, Tom, Tom_ , Tom, Tom, TOM! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't leave me." She sobbed hopelessly into her useless pillow.

He answered her immediately. _"Harriet, calm down. I'm right here."_ For one shocking moment he couldn't tell if the overwhelming relief he felt was hers or his. He'd been focusing on planning for his own return, trying to block out all thoughts of Harry, but it was never completely successful. _"I'm not going anywhere."_ He reassured with steely surety. He wouldn't ever leave her now, he was too selfish.

" _I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"_

" _Quiet!"_ His sharp tone broke through to her and she sniffled, but otherwise quietened down.

" _Silly child."_ He chided softly. _"What on earth are you apologising for? You know I don't appreciate it when you're insincere."_

" _But I mean it, I am sorry!"_

" _You have nothing to be sorry for, and so your apology isn't welcomed. It is I who should be apologising. I took something from you that can never be returned."_ He didn't feel bad about killing the Potters, and he didn't regret aiming that curse at Harry. He would never be able to make her understand now, but one day he would explain: he couldn't regret trying to kill her that fateful night. If he had succeeded in killing her, Lord Voldemort would have moved forward and never given her another thought – you can't miss what you've never known. Things hadn't worked out that way though and in the end trying to kill her had allowed him to feel things he never had before and had allowed him to get to know her. He regretted what had become of him, of course, but when it came to Harry he only regretted what pain Harry's life had been since that night, and he laid the blame for that squarely at Dumbledore's door. Harriet would see that too.

Harry didn't know what to think anymore, but hoped things would make more sense when she grew up, because she could never hate Tom, even if he betrayed her.


	4. Great Escape

Diagon Alley was more wonderful than she'd ever dreamed it could be, and Tom allowed her time to simply absorb everything. He could appreciate how she felt right now. She'd remember this moment for years to come, hopefully as the start of a better life.

The rules for today were non-negotiable and mostly boiled down to 'obey every order Tom game instantly and without question or he wouldn't allow her to come back here until she was eleven. She knew Tom didn't make idle threats, so was resolved to be good.

After some time, he directed her to the far end of the alley to exchange their money at the bank. He was patient as she was constantly distracted on the way. Once they started their work here she wouldn't have time and she would probably be more capable of concentrating if she'd already had a good look.

He'd prepared her for meeting goblins so she wouldn't drew unwanted attention - bad enough that she was there alone at eight years old and with muggle money. With every step she'd taken since leaving the Dursleys' he'd wanted to call the whole thing off, because there were just so many things that could go wrong, but he needed to do this; he needed her to do this.

They'd bought new clothes on the way and she now wore black trousers, black shirt, black shoes and a black hooded coat that would have to do until they could buy a cloak. With any luck, once she had that, most people would dismiss her small frame as her being a creature of some sort, as long as she kept up the act of confidence and knowledge beyond her years. And of course, a black bandana to cover her head. She had a full fringe and a hood, but he still wouldn't permit her to venture out into the wizarding world without covering the mark he'd left upon her.

She walked up the steps quickly, just as he instructed: the time for sigh-seeing was over it seemed. She kept facing forward and successfully fought the urge to stare at the strange creatures. Tom was impressed and strangely proud.

She was only able to do this because he was there with her. She knew she had nothing to fear. The responsibility he felt as a result of that trust felt like an anvil on each shoulder, but sounded as sure as ever as he instructed her to the appropriate line and all to soon she was called to a teller.

"I wish to exchange this." She put on her telephone voice whilst tossing the bag of money onto the counter and looking off to the side as though bored by such a routine action. In reality she thought she was about to throw up her heart. Was she overdoing it? Underdoing it?

" _You're doing well. Just keep going as we planned."_ He coaxed successfully. She turned back when the goblin returned her bag and took it from him, stopping to take a careful look within before nodding to the goblin and making a steady escape. _"Well done. That was very well done."_ She beamed with pride as she made her way down the marble steps and towards the robe store.

Tom made her wait outside until she could get back control of her face, and then she made short work of purchasing a cloak which she wore out. She felt a bit ridiculous and dramatic, all swooshy – her face hardly visible beneath the oversize hood, but at the same time it was easier to act in this cloak. It was like wearing a costume and becoming someone else.

Tom was glad she was feeling more confident, because what he would have her do next was by far the most dangerous part of the day, not that he'd told her that, it was imperative she act confidently now.

He directed her to Knockturn Alley. Using her eyes to take in every single thing he could, he had her march quickly into Borgin and Burkes and straight to the counter.

"I wish to purchase a Baetylus, an ebony dagger, a small crown and a footstool." Harry wanted to do a little dance to celebrate that she hadn't messed up the pronunciation, but she didn't have to stop herself, because as soon as the thought entered her mind, she noticed how very ill the man behind the counter looked after hearing her list. Tom quickly whispered instruction to her and she didn't falter when the man finally spoke up.

"What makes you think I have a Baetylus? And, and what do you mean by 'footstool.'"

"Borgin, if you don't provide all these items, I will be most… displeased." Harry had been talking a little too quickly for a second there, so Tom had to purposefully withheld the final world and the effect was actually rather satisfactory. The man looked even more unsure as he attempted to gaze into the shadowed hood of the tiny child… thing. Harry slammed a hand down on the counter as directed in order to draw his attention away and continued to parrot her friend's words. "I have the utmost faith… that you can acquire them all within a day or two?" It wasn't supposed to sound like a question, but Tom thought it was going well enough anyway.

Borgin looked like he wanted to say something more, but Tom wanted to end this as quickly as possible.

*Damn it, you fool!* "Do we have a problem?" Borgin started to shake his head in earnest, his hand shaking lightly as he pulled out his stock book.

"N,not at all."

Tom was ecstatic. His little Horcrux could speak Parseltongue! He'd simply cursed in frustration before continuing his dictation, but in copying him in both languages without missing a beat, Harry had put the fear of, well, Voldemort in the aging man. Borgin wouldn't know exactly what was going on, but he'd also never dare ask. It was just too good. In an uncharacteristic change of plan, he had Harry give the man an address to deliver the objects to once he had them and leave the money on the counter, before promptly turning and leaving the shop without waiting for a confirmation.

Tom had told Harriet to walk straight back through the Leaky Cauldron, but as soon as she caught sight of the bathrooms she all but ran inside and proceeded to throw up quite violently.

" _You were magnificent, Harriet."_ She just scowled into the toilet – he was far too happy. _"Most people appreciate my happiness."_ He teased.

"Well…"

" _Shh, Shh!"_ Tom had to remind her.

" _Well I feel like I'm dying."_ She almost cried, kneeling before a pub toilet in her brand new swooshy cloak.

" _You're not dying."_ He dismissed her dramatics. _"You just needed to expel all that tension."_ At her petulant silence he continued, _"You did well, Harriet, truly. I'm very proud of you."_ The words had slipped out before he could stop them, but it was just as well for they seemed to be the cure to Harry's sickness. She gathered herself, washed up and set off out into muggle London with the feeling that she could do anything.

And the day only got better when Tom told her that they would be able to leave the Dursleys' after all, and that he was in such a good mood that she wouldn't even have to go back at all if she didn't want to. She didn't want to, so they walked until they found a modest looking hotel, the kind owned by a chain and didn't particularly care who stayed there as long as there was no trouble. She'd received curious stares due to her cloak but didn't care. She felt good. She felt safe. She felt free.

Her freedom lasted only about thirty hours.

It was 11:23 the following night and Harry was sound asleep when the door to her room silently swung open. As two figures made their way towards her bed, the banging of a door further down the hallway woke her.

"It's ok, Harriet. We are policemen. We're here to help." The man spoke quickly in an effort to soothe the frightened child. Harry sat up in bed, her heart once more threatening to break loose, but she stayed quiet.

" _Tom! Tom! Help me!"_ She practically screamed in her mind. She had a talent from hiding her emotions from those around her, it was more of a survival tactic really, but she never held back with Tom and he felt the surge of panic trying to reach him.

" _Calm down."_ He snapped at her, annoyed that she'd been discovered so soon – nothing was ever easy, was it?

She took a deep breath and slowly climbed from the bed. Blinking back her tears, she took the hand of one of the police men and allowed herself to be taken away.

She stayed quiet during the drive back to Surrey, every single mile made her world smaller as invisible walls closed in around her.

Tom was disturbed. This wasn't right at all: These supposed policemen asked only a handful of questions, mostly about her health, and were now taking her straight back to the Dursleys. Surely more would be involved in dealing with a run away. They hadn't even been to the police station; they just placed her in the back of a patrol car and set off on the long drive home. Her family would have only reported her missing last night, so it seemed unlikely muggles could have located her so soon. This whole thing stunk of Dumbledore. He was glad they'd left her cloak behind at the hotel.

" _It's ok."_ He tried, but she shut him down immediately.

" _Go away!"_ He knew she was sneaped, having her freedom snatched away like that.

" _It's only for a short while, I promise."_ She didn't respond, but she believed him.


	5. Two Steps Forward

Harry screamed, crumbling to the ground as she held her head, making her uncle pause in his tirade.

It had only been ten minutes since she returned home. Tom had her listen in as the so-called police officers stressed to her aunt and uncle the importance of the blood wards and the necessity of keeping Harriet safely at home, and to say he was angry would be an understatement. The wizards knew of Harriet's situation here and did nothing! Worse, they enforced it. Dumbledore that mad old geriatric fool hadn't changed a bit. Still willing to condemn children to needless suffering. Knowing the old man as he did, he could just imagine what he was up to: leave Harry here, so starved of affection that she would do anything for the first person to offer her some. Well, that had back-fired spectacularly. Now she was Voldemort's: by leaving her behind the old man had handed victory over to his enemy.

The only problem now was how to keep Harry off Dumbledore's radar. He was obviously in no position to fight the man, so wouldn't be able to stop her from being taken away if anyone caught wind of his involvement.

It was just as the realisation that she would have to stay in this godawful place was settling that Harry was joined in the living room by her guardians.

"You ungrateful wretch!" Vernon bellowed. "Do you have any idea how this looks? It's a bloody good job those freaks got involved before everyone found out we had a runaway!" Petunia covered her mouth as though the mere thought of her neighbours finding out such a thing might make her ill. "We have given you everything! Everything!" The more the fat muggle shouted at his Harriet, and the more he felt her struggling to control her tears, the more his own already tenuous control slipped and he finally snapped, letting out an almost primal roar of pure fury, which caused pain like she had never felt before to fill Harry. It felt as though her head would crack open. As soon as he realised that he was hurting her, he severed the connection, but she was left panting on the floor.

"Get up!" Petunia snapped, completely unimpressed with whatever the girl was playing at.

Harry just about heard her aunt's words as her head started to clear, but she was too focused on Tom. She'd picked up little bits and pieces of his emotions before, but nothing like the white hot anger she'd just experienced. He was absolutely furious, and by feeling that fury she understood it. He was angry that the wizards weren't helping, he was angry that he'd have to change his plans to get Harry away from the muggles, and of course he was angry that the muggles believed they could treat her like this. Feeling his anger, as painful as it had been, made her feel more loved than she had ever felt in her life. He had never said the words that she so often did, but just then, feeling his emotions so raw like that, she knew he loved her, and that all his anger right now was for her.

She didn't want to cause him pain, she didn't want him to have to worry about her or be so angry because of her, so she looked up to her family and resolved to do what she'd tried to avoid for so long.

With shaky arms, she pushed herself back up and glared with everything she had. It must have been half decent because both adults looked confused at her sudden change in demeanour.

"Get to bed. Now!" Her aunt ordered, feeling uneasy about that look in her niece's eyes. She felt even worse when a cruel little smile broke the hard line of her lips.

"I think I will." She nodded. Vernon opened his mouth, probably to make a point that his wife's words hadn't been a suggestion. She saw a packet of biscuits on a side table not far behind him and flung them at the back of his head.

"Now y… ah!" The adults spun to see what had attacked them, but looked back at hearing Harry's laugh.

"You!" Petunia started, "How dare you!" She took a step towards the little girl, only to stop when a photo frame smashed at her feet, followed by another and another. "Stop! Stop this, you freak!"

"I'll deal with this." Vernon seemed confident, so Harry quickly gathered all the broken glass and levitated it a few inches in front of his face, the threat obvious. The Dursleys froze.

"I think I will go to bed now, but I'll not ever be going back to the cupboard under the stairs. I think I'll take your room, you have a nice big bed."

"You're mad to think that's ever going to happen." Her aunt said in a rather strained voice, never taking her eyes from the glass before her husband. "We'll not have any of your freakishness! I hoped we could put an end to this after we took you in, but you're just like _them_ aren't you? You should have died with them!"

That last statement hurt. Harry didn't think they could say anything to hurt her anymore, but muggles never failed to disappoint, did they? Her magic, already at work, reacted without direction and everything that could be smashed in the room did so. Decorative plates and small porcelain ornaments exploded along with the mirrors and mugs that had been left out – no doubt because Harry hadn't been here to pick them up.

The adults let out cries of surprise.

"Stop it!" Her aunt was screeching now. "You little bitch! You're going to wake Dudley!"

" _I'm_ going to wake him?" Harry asked in disbelief, the woman could break the sound barrier, and it was amazing that the boy hadn't already woken. "I hope he does wake up. Maybe he should join us down here?" Harry threw the glass at their legs and revelled in their cries of pain, though it was mostly surprise. She shouldn't have, she knew that, but she did. "Now I'm going to bed," She spoke down to the adults who were now on the floor trying to hold their bleeding limbs. "Do we have a problem?" She copied Tom's words from before and was relieved when they shook their heads. She was getting too tired to keep this up much longer.

She made her way to the master bedroom and shut the door, paused a moment and then, with the help of her magic, just about managed to push a chest of drawers in front of it, before collapsing onto the bed and into a pleasant sleep.

She woke to knocking and immediately remembered what she had done. She desperately wanted to call out to Tom, but even in her panic she didn't, worried that he might still be mad. The knocking continued.

"Go away." Not her best line, but she really didn't know what to do.

"Harriet?" Petunia called softly, so softly that Harry was surprised. She didn't think her aunt had ever spoken to her so kindly. "We need to get dressed. Vernon needs to get to work and, and you need to get to school."

"In a moment." She called back. What if this was a trick? What if she opened the door and they grabbed her? Then again, she had to leave sometime, and she supposed they did need to get dressed.

She decided to open the door. She'd done so much already this year; she could surely deal with her family too. After moving the drawers, she ran back to the bed so she wasn't in grabbing distance and opened the door.

Both adults came in quietly. Vernon was a funny shade of red, and muttering hatefully beneath his breath, but neither of them even looked in her direction as she carefully made her way downstairs to get her uniform. She didn't help with breakfast or wait for the others to get ready; as soon as she was dressed she left for school.

She thought it odd that no other children where about and halted her steps. It was still summer! She stamped her foot, mortified that she'd fallen for her aunt's trick. She'd just been so anxious to get out of the house she hadn't thought.

Glaring at her chequered dress, she decided to go to the park. Who knew what her family were planning for her return?

" _You're up early."_

"Tom." That one simple word was saturated with relief.

" _Were they as dreadful as they normally are?"_

" _Oh Tom, I've done something terrible?"_ She sat on park bench, her hands white with how tightly she gripped the wood.

" _I doubt that's even possible."_ He comforted, but at the same time set about looking through her all memories since last night. He was delighted with what he found. It was a bit shaky and lacked screaming, but a good start. _"Oh, but this is wonderful"_ Hearing him say that, even if it was the reaction she'd expected, made her feel better.

" _But I'm in so much trouble now."_ She was actually afraid to go home. She'd be locked in the cupboard until school _did_ start.

" _Nonsense!"_ Tom was as dismissive as ever. It was somewhat reassuring. _"If they are stupid enough to try anything you can simply do what you did last night again – only this time use knives."_ He sounded utterly gleeful at the prospect, but it was obvious Harry wasn't so sure, and she sat quietly. _"Maybe you'll feel better when I tell you what I was up to last night."_

" _What?"_ She asked hopefully.

" _Well, the items you so masterfully ordered came in, and I was able to,"_ He paused when he realised there was really no point in explaining the ritual at the moment, _"strengthen myself. I'm much more stable now."_

" _Do you have your body back?!"_ Harry's excitement made her forget all her woes.

" _No, unfortunately not."_ Oh, she thought sadly. _"But I am strong and stable enough to possess people, to take control of their bodies and use them until I can make my own."_ She ignored how unpleasant that sounded, because he seemed so happy about it.

" _You can't make a body."_

" _I am Lord Voldemort, my dear. I can do anything."_ He was absolutely serious when he said that and she believed him completely.

" _If you have someone's body then where are you?"_ Harry's mind was suddenly full of ideas about things they could do now. They could go back to London now she'd have an adult with her!

" _Calm down. There are just a few things I wish to do first."_

" _Well I could come with you!"_

" _I need to rest, but I'll tell you what, if you go home and deal with those maggots, I'll take you with me when I go out later."_

She could do that! She was so excited that after all this time Tom would become more than just a voice in her head – not that that was ever _all_ he was – that her family seemed like a little detail.

" _Promise?"_

" _I promise."_ He vowed indulgently. It would make things a little more complicated, having a little girl with him, but he too was looking forward to seeing her and any mither would be worth it.

Harriet skipped up to the front door of the house she was forced to call home, hoping her aunt could see her. With any luck her uncle was at work and everything would be fine.

Unfortunately she found Vernon still at home at sitting at the table with his wife. He scowled at Harriet.

"Sit down, girl." He just about managed to spit out. She forced a glare as she made her way to the table, but inside she was afraid. She didn't have the energy to do this every day. Using magic took a lot out of her.

She stood before the table and crossed her arms, hoping it wasn't a completely childish thing to do.

"What?" She was using the same confident tone she had in London. It had served her well then.

"What? What?" He shouted. Petunia placed a hand on his arm to calm him.

"We need to talk about your behaviour yesterday." Gone was that kindly tone from this morning. Once more she sounded as though even speaking to Harry was beneath her.

"Did you not understand something?"

"You are child in our house and you will live by our rules. Anymore behaviour like last night and we've agreed," She shuddered in revulsion of what she was about to say. "We've agreed that we will contact the freaks and let them deal with you. If they are so insistent you stay here, they can keep you in line!" Harry's blood ran cold. Surely her aunt was joking. There was just no way they would accept having more wizards and witches around. But what if she was serious? The wizards that had left her here were no friends of hers and she had no idea what they would do. What if they came and found out about Tom – Lord Voldemort!

"Ha! Got you there, haven't we?" Vernon sneered, pulling her from her thoughts.

"I'd love to meet more people like me! Go ahead and invite them." She didn't sound anywhere near as confident as she wanted to.

"Then why are you shaking?" He mocked.

"Ok." Clenching her fists, she scrambled to come up with something to say. "How, how about I behave again, but you let me go about my own business and not tell anybody if I go missing for the odd day or two?"

"You don't have a choice here…" He was interrupted by his wife.

"But for the sake of getting back to normal, that's fine." Turning to him, she continued. "It will be nice not having her around all the time." And she really didn't want to have to call _them_ if this compromise didn't work.

"Fine." He growled.

"Fine." Harry repeated before she turned to start cleaning the breakfast dishes.

She was worried what Tom would say. She'd done her best: she couldn't let them call anyone that would put him at risk. At least this way she could go out with Tom without getting into trouble, although she was really hoping that he would be able to take her away altogether. She just had to make it to… well, whenever he'd rested.


	6. Touch

By the time Tom came back she'd been starting to panic. It was dinnertime, once her family finished eating she'd clean the dishes and then be sent to bed, and she'd convinced herself she wouldn't ever have to go back to the cupboard again. On top of that, the feeling in the house was so strained it was hurting her tummy.

" _Ready to go on a trip?"_ She jumped down from her perch on the kitchen counter at his sudden presence in her mind. _"You're awfully jumpy?"_ He noticed, a tone of accusation in his voice – Harry was generally only nervous with him when she had cause to be and he really hoped it was nothing important; things were going far too well to be delayed because of the actions of a child.

" _Can we go now?"_ Excitement bubbled up from every word, but didn't completely hide her worry.

" _What happened?"_ Tom asked with a sigh. It was always best to know about problems so you could deal with them. Harry bit her lip before telling him everything, he would only look through her memories if she didn't.

Tom was disappointed, just as she'd feared. He was of the opinion that she should have tied them up and forced them into submission, made them too afraid to even dream of calling for help, but as she hastily explained her reasoning, he couldn't help but tell her it was ok. She'd found the courage to stand up for herself and proved she was ready to hurt the muggles for her own benefit. Her downfall had come from trying to protect him, whilst simultaneously placing her trust in him that he would make everything better, and he couldn't for the life of him betray that trust, so in the end he agreed to take her out as promised. There was also the rather important fact that he too was yearning to see her.

And so Harriet Potter informed her aunt that she would be gone for a while and made her way to meet Tom, running through the streets in the glow of a beautiful summer's evening. She ran so quickly that she fell as she rounded the corner to enter the park, skidding a little way, but not even noticing the pain, jumped right back up and continued on.

She only stopped running when she caught sight of a man standing on the path before her. He looked to be in his mid-forties, of average build, clean shaven, short impeccably styled dark blonde hair and a sharp suit.

He watched the little girl approach with tentative steps and for the first, and hopefully last time in his life, he felt a lump in his throat. He said nothing as her curious eyes took in the form of his unfortunate host.

And then, in a moment he would remember forever, their eyes locked and the smile that beamed from her face was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. It was only a moment, and before he knew it she was running and jumping straight at him. He caught her on pure instinct and held her close to his chest, revelling in the feeling of her hammering heart.

"Tom!" She cried into his shoulder. _"Tom."_ She repeated inside, the action almost more reassuring now, even with a real flesh and blood body in front of her.

He had to take a few seconds just staring over her shoulder, wondering what on earth his life had become, this wasn't right at all. It made no sense for him to be here; it disrupted his plans for the day and he didn't appreciate disorder; and it presented no benefits or opportunities that weren't already available to him, but for some reason his wish to see Harry was more important than anything else he wished to achieve today. Soon enough she drew his attention again.

"I like his eyes." She said, her voice only slightly above a whisper.

"What? Oh." She didn't like his voice, it was disconcerting, not her Tom at all. "Well, actually those are uniquely mine." Ah, now that level of arrogance was all Tom. She lifted her head to look into that deep crimson with a smile. It might not have been his voice, but every inflection put her at ease, and those eyes seemed to fit him perfectly.

"They're really pretty!" Tom let out a long breath. If she was anyone else… He'd killed for much less. They weren't pretty, they were fear-inspiring.

Harry belatedly realised that she'd ran at him and reluctantly wiggled free, embarrassed that she was too old to be picked up and was probably hurting his arms. Besides, Tom wasn't the hugging type at all... She was probably being a nuisance already…

"You're tiny." He said to interrupt her spiral of insecurity. He wouldn't admit it, but he didn't mind holding her at all. While she was in his arms he knew she was safe at least.

Her smile twisted into an exaggerated pout.

"I'm not little!" She made sure to enunciate every syllable, just as he'd taught her to do, to make herself sound older. He just smirked at her.

"You are. In fact I think I might change your name to titch." He was actually impressed by the intensity of her glare. She was tiny though, more so than he'd been expecting after only ever viewing her through her own eyes. He was aware, of course, that she was probably a little malnourished, but the reality of feeling her thin arms around his neck made him want to storm the Dursley house, blood wards be damned.

"What took you so long?" She'd noticed his change of countenance and decided to change the subject. He looked down at her with a smug smile.

"I went to retrieve my wand." And then by way of explanation he added, "It took longer than I'd anticipated."

He withdrew the infamous yew from his sleeve with something akin to reverence. Harry just looked confused.

"Erm, Tom?" He gave her a 'hmm?' whilst enjoying the rush that came from holding your wand, especially after going so long without it. "It's a stick." His gaze snapped to her sharply at the mocking tone, but he couldn't contain the laugh that broke free. Just a stick? Ha! This wand was an almost universal symbol of power, fear and respect. He'd seen people reduced to blubbering wrecks just from him drawing this 'stick'. She would no doubt be witness to that fearsome power before too long.

He flicked the wand wordlessly in the general direction of the park.

Harry gasped as all the trees and shrubbery became iridescent. It was a breath-taking sight as the light of the low sun lit up the park in a thousand different colours. The ground beneath her feet seemed to be back-lit somehow. She let out a yell and dove onto the grass like a child much younger than her, marvelling at how the colours reacted to her presence.

He gave her but a few seconds to enjoy the wonderland before calling to her. She looked back, unable to hide her smile – this was the best day ever.

"Well?" He asked, arms crossed, eyebrow raised and wand tapping purposefully against his upper arm. Harry just rolled her eyes from where she sat.

"Fine, your stick is super cool." She smacked her hands down on the grass, watching as it glowed in response before looking back to him with that smile. "I love magic!"

Voldemort very much wanted to agree, but finally got a hold of himself and, as much as he wouldn't really mind staying here to let Harriet simply enjoy life, decided it was time to get going.

Harry jumped clear into the air with a loud 'eep!' when the ground a few feet to her right exploded.

"Come here, Titch." The glare had returned, but she made her way to him.

"Can I have a go?" She asked hopefully.

"Thankfully it doesn't work like that."

"Thankfully?" He shook his head as if to say it was nothing, before crouching down in front of her.

"What do you want to do?" He asked as he turned her around to face into the park. He allowed her to take a hold of his wand, wrapping his hand around hers – her hand small enough that he was still connected to the wood.

"Umm…" She looked about before raising her other hand and pointing to the scorched earth, causing Tom to let out a laugh: she could be such a tomboy sometimes, wanting to make explosions. He humoured her none the less and sent a small bombarda to the ground. He'd been tempted to do something showy, but couldn't afford to draw attention.

"Woah."

"Ok, enough." He declared, spinning her back around and vanishing the blood from her knees. They were scraped up again – something else he'd have to deal with. She didn't notice this small bit of magic, but did notice when in a split second, she changed clothes, and was now wearing a deep blue sun dress with white lace detail along the top and white sandals. She gasped and then laughed in joy, taking a moment to enjoy the nicest clothes she'd ever had. Tom decided that laugh was worth him having to buy the damn clothes earlier that day. He would never be doing that again, but didn't want to take her out in those awful second hand muggle rags when she deserved so much more.

Those laughs soon died when he gathered her up once more and apparated them both to Wiltshire.

As soon as she was back on the ground she looked at him with unsure eyes. She felt too poorly to know how to respond.

Tom smirked at her. "That's why I didn't warn you. It's over now." Once she was sure she wouldn't be sick, she glared. "You'd rather waste time riding the trains again?" Emphatic nodding provided a clear answer. "Nonsense." He dismissed and turned to face the wards of Malfoy Manor.

* * *

 **((Lily's protection was based on love - Tom and Harry have unknowingly circumvented this with their own, hence no burning)).**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **And as always I'm so grateful to those who take the time to review xx**


	7. Malfoy Manor

Voldemort sometimes wondered if Harriet was some sort of lucky charm, his own personal sprig of shamrock. Ok, he was angry about their initial meeting, but he'd decided to let history judge whether that was lucky or not. She had enabled him to get stronger, which is something nobody else could have helped him with as he could trust nobody else in his weakened state and now she'd saved him from what would have surely been a massive headache in dismantling the ancient Malfoy wards.

He'd learnt the basics of what had happened in his absence, grim viewing though his host's memories had been, but knew the Malfoy Lord would have more reliable information; current political landscape, state of the dark sect and his Death Eaters etc. However the entire family was out attending some social event, and the Dark Lord was not about to wait around for their return, so the house elf that greeted them at the gates was a welcome surprise. It seemed so fond of 'the great' Harriet Potter, that the ridiculous creature invited both Harry and her friend inside. As he listened to the elf telling Harry how unsafe it was for her here, how he'd wished she would leave and the like, Tom had to wonder if the little thing hadn't lost its mind. He was happy to notice that apart from a concerned glance or two, Harry didn't seem too bothered by how the elf beat itself with every word against his masters.

"Oh, wow!" Harry looked at the grand staircase in awe. He supposed it was a rather impressive house.

"I'm going to the study, why don't you find something to amuse yourself." He was half way up the stairs before he gave into the lack of reply and paused to look questioningly at the girl who was right where he'd left her.

"I want to go with you."

" _It's not as though I'm ever far away."_ He teased mentally.

" _But what if something happens while you're gone? What if you lose your…erm, that body?"_

"Then I shall acquire another." He reassured confidently. "Now go play." The command left no room for argument, but she remained in place. "What?" He sighed. "You must be the only child in the world that couldn't get up to mischief in a house this big."

"But this is someone's home, I can't just…" Tom held up a hand.

"Stop." He couldn't get how she didn't understand, after so long together, that the only person she had to mind was him. Her relatives were a special case, as up until now she'd relied on them to take care of her physical needs, but he had always made his opinions on everybody else very clear: she and Tom were better than them all, plain and simple. She had been made to feel inferior all her life and he had worked hard to prevent that idea from taking root. She already knew they were better than the muggles and now Tom was there to enforce it, he wasn't about to let her backslide during her first proper interaction with wizards.

He made his way back down to her. There was a large ornament on a table not too far to his right and he gestured towards it.

"What is that?" He asked to draw her attention. "Some kind of collection of antlers?" He honestly didn't know what the item was supposed to be. "It's made out of porcelain. Looks awfully expensive." He nodded to it. "Push it over." Her mouth dropped open.

"What? Why?"

"Because I told you to." He didn't even have to slip into her mind to see the cogs turning – he knew her too well. She would no doubt he worrying about getting caught or about how one was supposed to respect other people's property. "Well?"

"But, but…"

"Well?" He repeated more forcefully. She worried her lip as her mind raced for answers, before she finally cottoned on to what he was trying to teach her. It came down to whether she was more concerned about upsetting the owners of the house or upsetting Tom. If she caused damage somehow whilst playing here, it wasn't the owners she had to worry about. When she was with Tom, nobody had any power over her, and nobody had the authority to tell her off but him. _"Even when you aren't with me."_ He corrected, ignoring the scowl she gave him for listening in. _"You needn't worry about the peons that live here."_

" _That's not very nice, Tom."_ He just continued to look at her expectantly.

She took a breath before turning to push the ornament. It didn't budge, so she quickly gathered her magic and flung it to the floor. She gave a nervous laugh as it smashed and was completely destroyed, feeling a little giddy in the way you do when doing something you know you shouldn't.

Satisfied he once more made his way upstairs "Go play," he paused, "but do remember that this is somebody's home." She was incredulous for a moment before letting out a huff.

"You're not funny!" She shouted after him before deciding to explore the nearest rooms.

When the Malfoys arrived home later that evening they were greeted by the sound of screaming. No, it wasn't screaming, it was squealing – squeals of joy. Concerned and curious they entered to find the last thing they'd been expecting: a girl who looked just a little younger than Draco, with long messy dark hair and a full fringe, was gliding down the main staircase on some kind of circular sled, spinning erratically as she descended. They were even more disturbed to see Dobby wearing a giant smile as he ran down the steps after her.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" The Malfoy Lord demanded as he took a step forward. Harry heard the sudden angry voice, but was too busy trying not to fall over to answer. Lucius watched as the girl swayed a little, her arms outstretched in an obvious attempt to find her balance. "Dobby! Explain!" He barked.

"Ah! Well you see sir, masters be having guests sir." The elf seemed awfully nervous all of a sudden, but before he could respond, Harry, now confident of her ability to stay upright, walked towards the tall blonde man.

"Hi, I'm Harry, how do you…oh" She had to lean over a little, hands on her knees, and eyes closed.

"The child's going to be sick." Narcissa sounded wholly unimpressed by the prospect.

"No, no, I'm ok." Harry straightened up once more. She wasn't entirely certain she could back up her words and wondered if she shouldn't have had those last ten goes on the sled.

"Dobby, fetch the girl some water." Lady Malfoy instructed. She was a mother after all, and besides, the girl was dressed well enough, she could only assume it was the child of an associate of her husbands who had been left unsupervised.

"What were you doing?!" Draco couldn't help himself. It had looked like so much fun and he was a bit disappointed he hadn't thought of doing it before, even if it did seem rather dangerous, the mystery girl wasn't injured.

Harry looked at the blonde boy. She hadn't had many nice experiences with other children, but this one seemed harmless enough, mostly because he seemed more excited about sledding than he did about meeting her.

"Do you want a go?" She asked cautiously.

"Certainly not!" The man interrupted, knowing his son would answer in the affirmative. "Who are you, child? Where are your parents?"

"I told you, I'm Harry." She waited a beat before deciding it was probably polite to say your full name. "Harriet Jayne Potter." Whatever the three Malfoys had been thinking before was washed away and confusion reigned. Surely this was a joke. Why would Harriet Potter be playing around in their home? "Oh, and my parents are dead." She added when she remembered the second question.

"You're not Harry Potter!" Draco cried, and for once his parents were glad of his rashness – they could think of no better response.

Dobby popped back at that moment and handed her the cool glass. "This is Harriet Potter." The strange creature declared.

"What are you doing here?" Lucius' mind was working quickly. The only people who knew where Harry Potter was were light wizards, but he could feel nothing in the wards to suggest there were any on the property – well no powerful ones at least.

Harry opened her mouth, but paused. "Actually, I'm not sure." He narrowed his eyes at the girl as his wife stepped in.

"Well how did you come to be here…" She trailed off, catching sight of the mess of pottery scattered across the floor in horror. "What happened there?" Her voice was low – that had been in the Black family for centuries.

"Oh," Harry had the decency to look sheepish "I pushed it over." She was experiencing that fear again – the one she got when she knew she was in a world of trouble and about to be punished, but tried her hardest to push the feeling away. She shouldn't be scared of these people… she shouldn't… but Mr Malfoy especially was very intimidating.

"How dare you! Why on earth would you do a thing like that?" Narcissa demanded to know. Harry forced herself to straighten up. She didn't have to be afraid of these people.

"Well… it doesn't matter." The young girl tried to mimic Tom's dismissive tone as she spoke. She concentrated on her magic, her eyes widening a little as Mr Malfoy drew his wand.

"Now listen here. I don't know how you came to be in our home, Harry Potter, but you should be more respectful to your betters." Harry took a deep breath as she put on a fake confidence. Tom had called them peons, but that didn't mean they couldn't hurt her.

"You are not my betters." Draco's eyes became comically wide at her words. He'd never heard anybody speak to his father that way, never mind a defenceless little girl. Lucius though had had enough and pointed his wand at her.

"Why are you here?"

 _CRACK!_

Harry jumped with everyone else at the sickening crack that seemed to echo through the vast room, before turning her eyes to Mr Malfoy when he let out a terrible cry of pain. His wrist was bent at an entirely unnatural angle, his wand on the floor.

"Really Lucius, pointing your wand at a child." Tom chided from the top of the stairs before starting a leisurely decent. "How very unbecoming."

As he made his way down, Narcissa brought out her own wand and trained it on the new arrival, but Tom barely blinked before wandlessly summoning it to himself. The women wasted no time in pulling Draco behind her.

Tom came to stand beside Harriet, running a brief glance over her to make sure she was ok, before turning once more to the Malfoys. The adults gasped at the eerily familiar red of his eyes. Lucius held his wrist tightly as he thought – there was no possibility that this man was who he feared him to be. Voldemort was gone, and even if he weren't, he would never be in the company of, and defending, Harry Potter.

"Just who do you think you are?" The blonde's voice waivered, betraying his anxiety even as he tried to enforce his superior tone. "You are sadly mistaken if you believe you can enter my home and…"

"Crucio." Lucius immediately fell to the ground as agony wracked his entire body. Tom enjoyed the man's screams; they were so much more pleasant than that misguided superiority. He felt Harry shuffle a little closer to him, obviously uncomfortable with the torture. He allowed her to learn into him, but otherwise offered no comfort. This was one of those things she would simply have to get used to.

"Father!" Draco shouted but was routed to the spot, shaking in fear. His cry managed to shake Narcissa out of her shocked state at hearing that forbidden word, but mostly from seeing that wand once more after so long. It was unbelievable, and yet it seemed to be the only explanation… She let herself fall, her knees hitting the hard marble floor along with her palms.

"My, My Lord?" She tried. Her husband's screams ceased and she let out a shaky breath of relief.

"Narcissa?" The Dark Lord returned. The woman seemed to shrink before him as her suspicions were confirmed. Oh, how he'd missed this.

"I, I beg mercy for my husband, My Lord. We did not know, we, if we had…"

"Am I not always most merciful to my faithful, Lucius?" He asked cruelly. The man barely had his breathing under control as he struggled to get to his knees.

"Yes, most merciful My Lord. I have long awaited your return…" Tom turned his attention from the proud man before him when Harry started to make her way out of the entrance hall.

" _Where do you think you're going?"_ He asked, amused by her apparent lack of interest, though when she turned to answer him, he could see why.

" _I want to get a snack."_ She looked dead on her feet and he realised just how mentally exhausting today had been for the child. It seemed that the tiredness had all come crashing down on her at once. Perhaps the torture had overloaded her.

"Narcissa." He cut off Lucius words. "It appears I have neglected to feed Harry this evening. Would you be so kind as to show her to the kitchens, and then find her a suitable room to rest?" And Narcissa gave the only answer she could, before rising and hastily ushering her son from the room with her, only to halt her steps when the girl spoke up.

"Wait! Are you staying here too?" The child sounded unhappy with the arrangements being made and Narcissa felt dread at what would happen to the girl if she kept speaking this way to the Dark Lord.

 _"I will be here when you wake."_ She frowned, clearly not appeased by that answer.

" _I'm not tired!"_ Lady Malfoy was feeling more and more uncomfortable as the girl glared at her Lord, and her Lord gave a short sharp laugh in return.

" _And yet you will sleep!"_ He ordered, bemused at her stubbornness – not tired indeed!

Harry let out a loud 'humph' before leaving there room, giving the woman no choice but to follow.


	8. Malfoy Manor cont

Narcissa watched Harriet Potter slouching at the kitchen table, eating a chicken sandwich in silence. She couldn't help but feel for the child. She could only imagine what a horror her life must be; prisoner of the Dark Lord, of the man she was famed for defeating. He'd already admitted to forgetting to feed her tonight and the girl was obviously underfed on a regular basis. Shuddering at the mere thought of it she ordered Dobby to make hot chocolate for the poor soul. Her head was still spinning with the revelation that Voldemort had returned, but she couldn't turn off her maternal instincts. She looked to her own son, who was upsettingly quiet, obviously shaken by violent turn of events this night, and by seeing his parents so humbled.

Once the girl was finished she stood, taking her son's hand.

"Harriet?" She asked kindly. Harry looked at the woman, suspicion obvious in her tired gaze. The last time she'd been spoken to like that it had all been a rouse. She didn't respond to Mrs Malfoy, but allowed herself to be guided through the labyrinth of hallways.

Narcissa wondered about her silence and distrust, but thinking it through, became more and more confused. Looking back, the girl hadn't seemed at all cowed by the Dark Lord – in fact she'd actually shown an impressive lack of fear, questioning and even glaring openly at him. No indeed, she seemed more uncomfortable in Narcissa's company than Voldemort's. Maybe he'd broken the girl.

They reached a guest room and she transfigured Harry a nighty – it would have to do for now, before finally venturing a question.

"How is it you came to be in the company of our Lord?" She asked while tucking her in.

"He's my best friend." Was Harry's clear and confident answer, which only served to further confuse the woman.

"No he isn't!" Draco shouted, speaking for the first time since leaving the entry hall. Harry sat up, determined to defend herself, but Mrs Malfoy was quick to hush her son and bid her goodnight.

In a different part of the house, Voldemort sat at Lucius' desk, listening as one of his most trusted, at least in the last war, gave a detailed account of everything that had happened in the last six and a half years.

Lucius stood before his Lord, his posture proud even as the pain in his legs increased. He'd been talking for going on two hours now, being as comprehensive as possible, knowing the man would research or at least cross reference everything. But even as his poor legs, which hadn't fully recovered from the previous torture, struggled to hold him up, his pride wasn't at all faked. He was honoured that his Lord had come to him over all others. He hadn't daren't question him, but from the relentless questioning, he could only assume he was the first Death Eater his Lord had contacted. It was worth suffering a little discomfort.

"What is your opinion of Severus? Does he remain loyal?" For the first time Lucius faltered. Severus was a dear friend and he didn't want to accidently condemn him. In the past he would have attempted to mitigate for his friend, but he wasn't even sure of his own standing.

As if reading his mind, Voldemort spoke, "You should know, I haven't decided what to do with you yet." Lucius hated how he always seemed able to do that. "I confess myself disappointed," He spoke with a mocking lilt, "that even you would deny me so quickly, and I have to wonder whether you were ever faithful."

Lucius lifted his gaze to look directly into his Lord's piercing eyes, hoping to prove his sincerity.

"I assure you my Lord, I have never renounced the old ways…" Tom tuned Malfoy out. He didn't really doubt the man, he might have lacked valour but his heart, for want of a better word, was in the right place – he just liked watching the blonde squirm. However, his attention was drawn by a feeling of sadness washing over him from Harry, and it was only then that he realised how inconvenient this connection could be. Even when he wasn't actively engaging their connection, strong emotions from her would reach him, like someone knocking on the edge of his consciousness, and that was all well and good when he had nothing better to do, but he couldn't have them distracting him as he went about his business – much like they were now.

Annoyed though he was with the situation, he couldn't help himself and reached out to see what had upset her so.

Harriet was sitting in the window, looking out at the clear and starry night. She didn't like it here. Everything was too perfect and it felt like a dream, like she might wake up and find that all this was an illusion, a bunch of wishful thinking on her part. Mostly though she didn't like that she suddenly had to share Tom with other people! She knew it was selfish and completely unreasonable, but it had always been the two of them, Tom and Harry against the world, and suddenly he had priorities beyond her, he had better things to do than talk to Harry before bed… more important things.

" _Harriet Potter, I told you to sleep!"_ His stern reprimand cut through her self-pity. _"If I have to tell you again there'll be consequences."_ Harry eyes widened for a second before she pouted and made an exaggerated effort to haul herself to the bed.

" _There!"_ She spat, but snuggled down and closed her eyes anyway.

Voldemort left out a sigh, disturbing the Malfoy Lord, who quickly started to look back over his words to find what had annoyed his Lord. Harriet was tired and over emotional and Tom wasn't having any of it. He would have to teach her at least basic Occlumency.

"Tell me of Severus."

Harry woke up to a screeching siren. Jolting upright and then falling out of bed, she was utterly confused until she caught sight of her tormentor. Tom sat on the end of her bed with a grin.

"What are you doing?" She moaned while climbing back into bed and pulling the lush duvet over her head. No sooner had she settled back in, the duvet flew from her, taking away its sleep-inducing comfort. "To-om, stop it!" She whined. He shook his head.

"Time to get up. You should have slept when I told you to last night." She was about to point out that much of her sleep had been stolen by nightmares of torture, but quickly decided it would do her no good. Throwing her pillow at him she acquiesced.

Soon enough they made their way down to the breakfast room and, together with the Malfoy family, shared an awkward meal. Tom paid it no mind – thinking on everything he planned to accomplish today. Nestled within his list of priorities was to find a way to deal with those wards around Privet Drive. He just couldn't hand Harry back to those disgusting muggles.


	9. Adjustment

"You're going to get us into so much trouble!"

"Shush!"

"You shush! Move over."

Lucius paused mid-sentence at the not-so-quiet whispers coming from outside his office doors. He looked cautiously at Lord Voldemort, glad that at the very least his son wasn't the behind this… he was just being led astray…

He wasn't at all put at ease by the nasty smirk.

"You're absolutely right, Lucius." The blonde was confused, but said nothing and his Lord continued: "We should send the children away. China, perhaps." For the briefest of moments his mouth dropped open – if he didn't so value his life, he would have sworn that look in Voldemort's eye was playful.

Horrified gasps were heard and a second later the doors burst open and in stormed a distraught looking Harry Potter, Draco clinging to her arm in a doomed attempt to stop her.

Lucius' horror was well concealed as he quickly stood, his gaze swinging from the children to an angry looking Dark Lord - he looked angry, but he could tell it wasn't genuine and for the nth time this week, he wondered just what had changed in the man. It was altogether unnerving, especially as it was uniquely related to the young Potter girl. In every other aspect of his power and personality he was as fearsome as ever, but when it came to Harriet he tolerated behaviour that defied belief.

"You're not serious!" Harry accused, absentmindedly trying to shrug free of Draco's hold.

"Of course I am." He waved a hand and Draco was bound, hand, foot and mouth at his father's feet. Harry paid him no mind. "You could go to work making cloaks and make yourself useful." She frowned.

" _Tom?"_ She tried to reach out with her mind and was relieved to find him listening.

" _Harriet?"_

" _I know you're fibbing."_ She failed in her attempt to sound sure.

" _Well, what else am I to do with disobedient children?"_

" _I'm not disobedient. You never said not to listen in…"_ She defended.

" _And yet I must have told you a thousand times; if I want you to know something…"_

" _I'll know."_ Harry finished with a pout. Tom glanced to the others and she turned to see Lucius Malfoy helping Draco to his feet and suddenly felt bad. Her friend's eyes were wide with fear as he looked at Tom. "Don't!" She said out loud, but to her despair, Tom just shook his head. _"He didn't even want to come. This is my fault!"_

" _Indeed, and you will therefore accept the consequences."_ He took out his wand.

The next thing Draco knew, he could no longer see. Anything! At all! He let out a frightened cry.

"My, My Lord, my son…" Lucius tried, but was quickly cut off.

"Still has his eyes." Voldemort's eyes narrowed in warning. "Quit while you're ahead, my friend." He turned to Draco. "Relax, young Malfoy, I will restore you sight later… if I have time." He spoke the last bit to Harry, the threat implied – whether Draco got his sight back was entirely down to whether she behaved for the rest of the day.

Harry scowled at Tom, and he could clearly see the cogs turning as she tried to figure out how to respond, but he merely returned her glare with a bored look of his own, and she soon realised it was useless. "Come on, Draco." She said as she grabbed the poor boy's arm and led him from the room, leaving the adults to their _super secret_ meeting.

Lucius faltered, looking out after the children, in half a mind whether to go comfort his young son, but as the doors slammed shut he was reminded whose company he currently enjoyed. No, he wouldn't be leaving without a dismissal.

Still, he couldn't figure out his Lord's angle when it came to Potter. The man must have been up to something but…

"About Potter My Lord, if I may…"

"You may not!" Came the sharp reply that shut down any further discussion on the topic, yet raised more questions. "Now, you were about to point out the flaws of my plan for you." Resigned, Lucius retook his seat.

"Well, we Malfoys have always considered ourselves kingmakers. We don't particularly cherish the accountability that comes with actually wearing the crown." Tom laughed at the man's honesty.

"Well, you have just been promoted to King, so get used to its weight. Besides, you have plenty of time to prepare. Elections aren't for another two years."

"My Lord," Lucius persisted, unsure of how far he could argue his point without angering him. In the past, meetings had always been held to discuss the merits and difficulties of plans, but once a decision had been made, the Dark Lord expected complete obedience and did not tolerate being questioned, even by his closest followers. Sending a silent prayer to whoever would listen, he went on, "There is also the prejudice I face from many who take seriously my alleged involvement with… the Dark Sect." Voldemort thought for a moment, he supposed he could imagine certain self-righteous meddlesome old wizards attempting to stop someone as obvious as Malfoy taking power.

"Very well, I will leave this matter in your capable hands." Lucius visibly eased his posture in relief that he hadn't been punished and tried to focus on the good. It should have been a vote of confidence from his master, that he would be trusted with such a task, but he felt more as though a great blade was hanging an inch from his neck. "You will find a suitable substitute, or you will run yourself. Any failure to ensure a favourable, _pliant_ outcome will be not be easily forgiven." Dismissing any further concerns that threatened to be voiced after such a warning, he moved on. "Now, Bones will have to go of course. Who's friendly in the DMLE?" The blonde forced his mind onto the task at hand as, even though he knew his own skin was very much on the line, his focus kept slipping to his son. Behind the cold mask of nobility, the Malfoys were a very loving family. He imagined his Lord would indeed restore Draco's sight soon enough – he didn't usually leave his followers physically injured in the long term, but the man, as great as he was, didn't seem to understand the psychological trauma his actions could have on such young children. Either that or he simply didn't care.

Voldemort had a lot to arrange. He was determined to have a solid, organised contingent in place before he made any moves to make his return known. He wasn't prepared to take unnecessary risks anymore, and he didn't mind pulling strings from the shadows until the time came to wage war once again. He'd have to find a way of breaking his loyal out of Azkaban while they still might be useful. His biggest headache came from deciding what to do with the muggles. In the last few years, he'd come to the conclusion that dealing with them one country at a time was out of the question, as surrounding nations would see opportunities and the last thing he needed was for the destructive fools to indulge in another world war. No, he would find a way of dealing with their infestation as a whole. Wizards around the globe would no doubt step into the power vacuum and the natural order would be established. Maybe he would take an interest in how they ran their counties eventually, but for now he would focus on Western Europe in order to ensure his rule here in Britain was undisputed.

* * *

Harriet took a terrified Draco to his mother. He wouldn't talk to her at all after that and simply allowed the woman to comfort him, so she decided to explore the gardens.

Narcissa watched the girl leave as she held her precious son. It had been a week since her taking up residence at Malfoy Manor and still there was no clue of how the child and the Dark Lord came to be acquainted. The more she observed interaction between the two, the surer she became that Harriet wasn't just a poor wretched prisoner. She'd been ordered to take Harriet shopping, to spare no expense in purchasing anything she might need. At first she'd told Draco not to get too attached to the girl, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that it was actually her son that was in more danger from her Lord and over the last few days she'd argued with her husband about her desire to take him away. He was having none of it though, afraid the move was too obvious and would be seen as impudence.

Harry found herself looking out over a small lake, wondering if it was safe to swim here. She was rather upset. Over the last week she'd quickly formed a friendship with Draco, the likes of which she'd never had before. It was nice. Maybe it was because she was still so young, but she'd quickly overcome her distrust and fear of having a friend. Although it may have had something to do with the fact that it was painfully clear the entire Malfoy family feared Tom, and she could therefore relax, knowing they wouldn't hurt her with him right here.

She was upset that Draco was refusing to talk to her, but blamed herself – it was her fault Draco got punished. She knew Tom well enough to know he wouldn't tolerate being spied on, but she couldn't shake her jealousy when he spent so much time with others. She didn't know what Tom did in the past when he wasn't talking to her, but she knew he wasn't able to speak with others. Now it felt like she was losing him and if that was the case, she would rather be back with her dreadful family as before. She could endure anything as long as she had Tom.

Deciding to risk the lake in preference over her spiralling misery, she slid off her sandals and waded into the calm waters, finding it pleasantly refreshing the hot afternoon sun. It was so relaxing in fact that she didn't notice as the sun began to dip and the water became cooler.

"Harriet, come in now. It's time for dinner." She heard Tom call, but resolutely ignored him. Tom would call her silly, but she didn't care. She had never been a bratty child and decided she was overdue. "Harry," Tom sighed softly, but his voice easily reached her. "You know I have ways to make you comply – you're not going to like it if I have to repeat myself." He wasn't known for his patience and after some of the conclusions he'd come to today, he had none left to offer her.

She made her way to the side and refused to look at him as she started to march back to the house, shivering with every step.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched her, before drying her with a flick of his wand and then calling for an elf to see she was changed for dinner. Sometimes he felt like she knew when something was about to happen she wouldn't like, as though she had a sixth sense for knowing when he was about to upset her and pre-empted him. It was really the only explanation as to why she would be acting the way she had this week now they had everything the two had aspired to in recent years: she was away from the muggles, he had a body, and they were together in the lap of luxury.

She was going to have to wise up soon because he had no intention of putting up with it in the long term, and besides, when she was miserable, he felt miserable. He blamed their connection…


	10. Operation Freedom

"Harry." Tom tried, rubbing his temples to sooth the oncoming headache.

"NO!" She shouted again, making moves for a quick get-away. He lifted his gaze and she hit an invisible barrier before she even reached the door. She kicked it in anger but it easily held.

"Harry, sit down." He instructed in a tone that made it very clear how ridiculous he thought she was being. When she turned back her eyes easily gave away her feelings of betrayal even as she tried to glare, and he rested his hands graciously on his knee, the action appearing completely casual. It was actually a preventative measure – to stop himself reaching for his wand or directing his magic in any way. The child was infuriating! She had no right to feel betrayed. She didn't even know what he was suggesting yet, just assumed, and if he was to be perfectly honest with himself, which he was not, he would say he was actually offended or perhaps even hurt that she didn't trust him.

"I'm not going back there!"

"Sit down!" He ordered more forcefully. "I'll not say it again." After hesitating a moment more she obeyed, but refused to look at him, instead choosing to appreciate the intricate rug at her feet while she crossed her arms. She didn't know why she was even listening to him: if he was going to throw her away, back to the Dursleys after showing her this new world and all the possibilities it held now he had a body, why on earth should she still be his friend? She bit her lip hard to stop tears from forming. She knew this was going to happen.

Tom sighed, but didn't give her thoughts much attention. He was pretty confident she'd come round to his point of view. If she would allow him to finish explaining, that was. If she couldn't bear to lose him after the revelation that he'd murdered her parents in cold blood, he doubted she would give him up over something as trifling as this. Returning to the Dursleys wasn't even the worst thing he was asking her to do for him.

"Now," He began again, a fleeting thought that he shouldn't have started with the bad news easily batted away – she would have to learn no to jump to conclusions without all the facts some time... "You will need to return to Surrey _temporarily_ ," He stressed "And for the most part it will be for appearance sake only."

"I don't wa…" He held up a hand.

"Let me finish." He said in the nicest way he possibly could, telling himself over and over he could not gag her to make her listen, as then she really would have cause to look at him that way. God-damn those eyes, he thought, before giving her the basics: "Now, while this body is better than nothing, I would like to have my own once again – surely that's reasonable?" She didn't say anything, but he could see the intrigue starting to distract her petulant glare. "Once I regain my body, there is a risk certain enemies will become aware of my return and, being the fools they are, will want to make sure you are still safely tucked away at the Dursleys." And far from my reach, he neglected to add. He had to err on the side of caution when it came to Dumbledore. He didn't believe the old man would raise an alarm if he discovered signs of his return, at least not without proof, but he had to assume he would check on The-Girl-Who-Lived and if he found her to be missing, could easily manipulate the public into a high-profile search at best and all out hysteria at worst – celebrity worshiping morons.

He was at least glad to see Harry's face screw up at the mention of those wishing her to stay with the muggles. That was at least something that had been all too easy, though not for her, he supposed.

"Therefore, he continued, "On the off chance that they come snooping, you need to be seen living as normal with your so-called family. You will not be returning for long, but it would be foolish not to take this small precaution." He had only discovered one spy in the neighbourhood, a squib, easy to control, and would take care of the Dursleys after a short time. The wards around Privet Drive were all there for protection and would continue to function perfectly well if the house was abandoned. This was really all he could do for the moment. If someone was sent to check on Harriet after she'd been extracted then he'd just have to deal with it, but he'd seen no evidence of wizards coming by before and therefore hoped he could at least buy himself enough time to get organised before he was outed or had to defend against the ministry and Dumbledore to keep Harry safe.

Sometimes he still thought back to his original assessment of their friendship – utter insanity. He didn't need to go to any of this trouble in order for his plans to move forward. He could dump her back with the muggles and get on with his life, as sure as he could be that even after such a betrayal she still wouldn't try to warn anyone. Love was such a weakness.

"How long?" She ventured in a small voice.

"A month." Forcing himself not to react to her wince, he continued. "You do realise we were only supposed to be meeting up last week – I gave no indication that you wouldn't be returning to that place." He didn't have to explain any of this, but for inexplicable reasons, he needed her to know he wasn't betraying her.

Instead of conceding his point, she pushed forward, and he let her – at least she was moving on.

"You said there were two things? What's the other?"

"I require your assistance in the ritual to restore my body."

* * *

"And she agreed?" Lucius blurted out in shock before quickly remembering himself, "My Lord." He amended, relieved when Voldemort waved a dismissive hand to show there would be no punishment for his boldness.

"Of course she did." He returned in a manner that suggested he thought the man a fool to believe she wouldn't jump at the chance to assist the Dark Lord Voldemort. In truth, Tom thought she was crazy. Her priorities were all wrong if nothing else. She'd reacted badly when he ordered her to return home _temporarily_ , but was almost eager to take part in a ritual that would be painful and required her to sacrifice her own blood. He was certainly glad for her willingness – it was a central ingredient in the ritual he'd chosen to use. The moment he thought about how grateful he was that she would make such a sacrifice he turned his attention back to Lucius. It wasn't the gratefulness that disturbed him, it was that he didn't begrudge her his gratefulness.

"Did you find somewhere suitable?" He asked, and his servant went on to describe a small village in Cornwall that was about to lose 42 residents. The ritual required a whole host of organs from these people, and Voldemort wouldn't be particularly bothered, except that to be acceptable they had to be harvested personally, so he was looking at a long repetitive night up to his elbows in various unpleasant bodily fluids. Maybe there was some cosmic balance to be kept, some divine justice, he thought with a wry grin – he certainly wouldn't he trying to kill any more 15month olds any time soon! Getting a body was altogether too much hassle.

* * *

"Hello muggle." Even in a borrowed body, Voldemort couldn't conceal the vindictive satisfaction he felt at finally being able to see Vernon Dursley with his own eyes. But he had to control himself – now was not the time for punishment.

"Muggle?" Vernon's face screwed up, and he was obtuse to the present danger as he reacted with disgust, glaring up into sinister red eyes. "You're one of _those,_ aren't you? Are you the one the girl's been with all this time? Well you tell her she can't go missing for so long, or else keep her for good so we can tell people she's moved away!"

The wizard tsked in amusement. The muggle's fate was already sealed, why should he care what the man had to say? He was merely an insect that crossed his path.

Without another word, he grabbed the large man and apparated them to somewhere more private than the street outside his workplace. The man didn't handle the journey as well as his 8 year old niece and ended up losing his lunch all over the hard concrete floor, but it didn't take him long to get his bearings and soon enough he was back to that peculiar shade of purple that suggested he was about to explode, and so to prevent the oncoming rant, Voldemort quickly gagged the man with an unyielding piece of leather that pulled too tightly across the entire lower part of his face. He gave him a few moments to stop panicking, but when he looked like he was about to attack the Dark Lord promptly threw a nasty Cruciatus curse. He would take his time hurting this man later, but for now this would do. One of the reasons he so favoured this curse, beside the glorious pleasure it gave, was that it quickly made a point. To inflict that level of pain with so little time and effort was useful, and people were usually quick to do just about anything to avoid feeling it again.

He stopped thrashing about (in the puddle of his own vomit – Tom thought it suited him), but it took a while for him to bring his breathing under control, restricted as it was.

"Now, are you ready to listen?" Vernon lay on his side, shaking in the after effects of the curse and nodded, his eyes wide with fear. "That's better." This was the man's rightful place, cowering and afraid at his feet, begging for a mercy that would not be granted. "Harriet Potter will be returned to you for one month and you are going to treat that little girl with the respect she deserves. Surely you can do that? Just one short month of remembering your place and then she'll be out of your house forever." Vernon managed to push himself up, sitting back on his heels he nodded again – anything to be away from the man before him. "Are you capable of showing respect?" More nodding. "Then show some!" Voldemort spat out in a hiss. At Vernon's look of panicked confusion he continued: "Do you really believe a disgusting muggle has the right to look upon his masters?" The man quickly diverted his gaze to the floor. "And where do you think your place is before me?" Vernon desperately wanted to look at the man, to question what he meant, if only with his eyes, but stopped himself. The Dark Lord smirked – the man wasn't completely brain dead after all. "Let me give you a clue: you're half way there." Slowly, and unsurely, he leaned forward, placing his hands on the floor. "Keep going." Voldemort encouraged pleasantly. Soon enough the muggle had his forehead and palms on the dirty concrete, lying completely prostrate. "So much better."

Tom pushed the man's head to the side with his foot, before pressing down with his boot enough to hurt; pudgy cheek pushed viciously against the floor. Vernon was shaking again, knowing very well how utterly helpless he was, how vulnerable to the man's whims – he could crush his head at any moment and he couldn't do a thing about it.

"You can go ahead and call for help if you like. You will find the others share my views and they'll let me know, and if I have to take valuable time to come back here you'll be punished severely. I'll torture you son and wife for months, and I'll make you watch while I do." It was a promise.

With a wave of his hand, Vernon's gag disappeared, and the man immediately tried to talk.

"Ah-ah. The only thing I want to hear from you is 'yes, master." Do you understand your orders?"

"Ye-yes Master." Tom's smile was terrifying. He really couldn't wait to get this man in his grasp properly.


	11. Rebirth

At the sound of music, Tom slowed his steps. He was heading to the library to get Harry ready for the ritual, but had to pause at the door, his head cocked to the side in confusion about what he was seeing.

"Don't go 'round tonight, It's bound to take your life. There's a bad moon on the rise." Harriet's voice was woefully off key, but she gave it everything she had as she sang along to the music.

He supposed what she was doing could be called dancing… there was spinning… there were legs hopping around and arms flailing about… there was a good chance she was possessed…

"Hope you got your things together. I hope you are quite prepared to die. Looks like we're in for nasty weather. One eye is taken for… oh Tom!" She stopped (what he was beginning to think was a demon summoning ritual of some kind), when she noticed him in the doorway. "Look what I found!" She held up a white conch that seemed like any normal shell, except it had muggle music blaring from it. "Tom, come dance with me?" What in all their time together made her think that was going to happen?

"No, we need to get ready." He didn't like the way her face lit up when he said that.

"Oooh!" She said dramatically. "Tom can't dance!" She sing-songed.

"No my dear, _you_ can't dance." He shook his head. "Perhaps I'll have Narcissa teach you."

"I can dance just fine." Harry grumbled under her breath.

"Enough. Go have a bath and then come down to the ritual room." He took a moment before continuing. "Harriet, you don't have to do this, you know? You can back out now and I won't be mad or upset." He was almost hoping she'd back out. Merlin, how far he'd fallen! He didn't want her to do this just about as much as he did.

"Shut up, Tom." It was a good-natured tease, and she pushed past him to go get ready.

"You're lucky I need you." He called after her in the same light tone. 'Need.' It was such a foreign word to him. Voldemort never needed anyone, but it came so easily with Harry. There were a couple of other rituals he could use, but this one was by far the best and only her willing participation made it possible. And maybe that was what was so hard to except. A sacrifice of love. He'd felt the love flowing from her for years, and it was easy to ignore, but this would be irrefutable proof, and that in turn proved the influence she'd had on him.

He'd always scoffed at the idea of love, and in the past would have never even considered a ritual like this. People claimed he had been born devoid of love and nothing in his life had ever given him reason to believe in its existence. But now he knew it did – because he could feel it from Harriet. No, it wasn't a feeling. It transcended that. Whatever it was, he could recognise it now, and that was only because of her. She'd forced it into his emotional repertoire. He'd let her emotions into his mind and they'd carved out those pathways in his brain, deeper and deeper until he could recognise it in himself. Love was indeed real and it was powerful. It grated on him that the old man might have been right after all, but then love was such a weakness generally that it should surely have some significant power to make up for it. At least he had the satisfaction of knowing just how Dumbledore would feel about the power of love being used in such a dark ritual, though he should have known better: love, after all, had no boundaries.

Well, he'd soon find out if he was right. He'd seen to every aspect of this ritual personally, and he was a perfectionist so he knew it was all in order. The success of the ritual rested solely with Harry. It called for her life's blood to be willingly sacrificed. But not her life, he'd checked that a dozen times.

Rubbing his hands over his face in one last attempt to quell his fears, he turned and headed downstairs.

* * *

The room was dark and Harry thought it altogether spooky, but it was ok, because Tom was here with her. The only light came from five tiny fires burning at seemingly random points on the floor. The room was full of what she knew to be runes, though she didn't recognise any, and there were so many it seemed more like some kind of language.

Tom stood in the middle of them all in a plain black robe. He looked at Harry – she seemed so fragile and so small in that white dress that he had to steel himself, steel his resolve. He would let her do this.

He guided her to sit down and quickly started chanting. He'd already briefed her on what would happen and was pleased to see she only flinched a little when he impaled his wrists, ankles and abdomen with ten inch naga scales. He needed to infuse their transformative powers, not to mention the water element that they so brilliantly represented. It seemed a body needed a whole lot of water, it was almost funny, to have to gather so many dark ingredients and then throw in something as pure as water. He supposed the same could be said for Harry's contribution. He wanted to groan but was fine and carried on – he'd never had a low pain threshold, though it was probably a good thing that he was about to use the flesh of his host as part of the ritual as he certainly wouldn't have survived it.

After what felt like an eternity it came time for Harry's bit. He took a silver bowl, tarnished with time and took a handful of the ash it held. – he hadn't told her what it was made up off; there were some things she just didn't need to know – and threw it viciously in her face. She squirmed as she fought not to react when she breathed it in, when it hurt her nose and stung her eyes and the urge to cough was almost unbeatable. He then repeated the process on himself and fleetingly applauded her self-control. He poured the rest onto the ground, his wrists bleeding the whole time and finally picked up the unicorn horn, freshly harvested and handed it to Harriet.

This was the moment of truth. If it didn't work, all this preparation would have been for nothing.

She didn't hesitate. It was almost pathetic how much she trusted him, but it didn't feel pathetic, it felt like the weight of the world. She put the sharp end of the horn to her wrist and dragged it down hard and fast. And she let out a terrible scream, but quickly bit her lip, biting straight through in an effort to stop herself saying anything.

The runes started to light up, one after another as her blood poured out, mixing with the ash and his host's blood and he kept chanting until every rune was lit and the room was full of blinding light and the blood and ash flew through the air in a small but violent tornado.

When the runes and fires died and the dust settled, the room was left in complete darkness and all was silent for a few moments.

Voldemort cracked his neck and flexed his fingers, but gave his new body no more consideration than that – not now at least. Finally a gentle glow lit the room as he cast a lumos and as soon as his eyes fell on Harry, all thoughts left him and he acted on instinct. His little girl lay on her side, unconscious, her white dress, skin and hair soaked in her own blood. He hadn't expected to react so strongly at the image and immediately flew into action, tearing his robe to wrap her wrist and stem the flow of blood, before gathering her up and rushing her up to where Narcissa would be waiting with all the necessary balms and potions. She better have a whole load of blood replenisher.

* * *

Harry's eyes blinked open, before quickly closing again as the light ignited fires and pounding drums in her head.

"Looks like someone finally decided to wake up." Her eyes still screwed up, Harriet was confused. That sounded like Tom, that same smooth baritone, but it wasn't in her head. Or was it? Memories of how she came to be here came to her all at once and she sat bolt upright at the revelation that it had worked. It had to have worked if he was talking to her.

"Ah!" As soon as she was up the pain intensified and a wave of nausea hit. A hand roughly pushed her shoulder and she fell back.

"Lie down." Came the stern instruction.

"Ow, Tom, you're making it worse!" She cried.

"No. 'Worse' is what happens if you even think about sitting up again." She groaned in response to the threat and carefully cracked one eye open. Standing beside her was a man, about 6'2, with black hair, sharp, aristocratic features and red eyes that seemed to be laughing at her. This suited Tom much better than his previous body.

"It worked." Her voice came out in a whisper.

"Indeed. How do you feel?" He moved on quickly. Oh, he was overjoyed to have his body back. At first he'd actually been concerned about just how well the spell had worked. He'd sacrificed his looks to further his power, in the pursuit of greater magics and he would have been enraged to find he'd have to start from scratch. Thankfully that hadn't been the case. It seemed the old fool was right and in the end the ritual had been so powerful that it gave him a body, his own body at its physical peak and he'd lost none of his powers as compromise. It was his lucky charm working for him again. Good looks and charm were powers all of their own and he was fairly certain he could still inspire fear easily enough.

"That's better; your voice. It's you." He ignored her words, instead helping her take a drink to sooth her croaky voice. He had a lot of patience for her today.

"How do you feel?" He repeated.

"My head hurts." She grumbled. "I feel sick, and really tired." Tom sighed. Of course she did; she was 8 years old and slit her own wrist last night.

"Drink these." He ordered, handing her pain relief and nutrient potions.

"Do you feel better now?" Harry asked and it took him a moment to realise she was taking about having his body back.

"Of course, Possessing someone is like wearing an ill-fitting suit: uncomfortable and restrictive."

"So having your own body is like wearing pyjamas?" He sighed again, but couldn't supress his smile. He was in much too good a mood.

"You have your own body. What does it feel like to you?" Her face screwed up in thought. Having your own body didn't feel like anything. _"Exactly."_ Her glare lacked energy so he told her to go back to sleep. The hard bit was done now and she would be fine.

The Dark Mark had returned to its previous glory with his rebirth, so if Snape was a traitor the old man would know of his return by know. He needed to move quickly to get Harriet back to Surrey and then break his people out of Azkaban. After that everything could be done from the shadows for a while and the public would go back to believing that everything was normal. Maybe he could even find a subtler way of getting his people out, but he felt so full of energy at the moment he felt like he could take the fortress himself.

He watched Harriet drift off to sleep. She was probably the only person on earth that would dare fall asleep in his presence. He scoffed at himself and stood. She was fine, and he had things to do.

* * *

 **Loving Tom is going to be the death of Harry (not really, don't panic), lol.**

 **Thank you to all those who review, I adore you guys! xx**


	12. House Rules 1

Harriet had stopped at the park on her way home from school, determined to put off returning to Privet Drive for as long as possible. She'd missed the first day of term, but wasn't worried about that after Tom told her she wouldn't be attending after the month was out anyway. It wasn't something she'd be losing sleep over, she actually couldn't wait to get away from the muggle children.

It had been a rather strange day. Lessons had been as interesting as ever, but she'd been left alone completely by the pupils, which was nice of course, but a little strange. Even her cousin, who hadn't seen her in over a week, had made a point to avoid her. It had been a relief at first, but after a while she thought maybe he was waiting to attack her once she got home. Tom said they would be nicer to her, but a lifetime of experience wasn't easily pushed aside.

Eventually though she knew she'd have to return before she got into trouble for being so late. Still, she took her time, enjoying the soft tread of her brand new school shoes, and when she finally arrived found a van in the driveway delivering furniture.

Her aunt was standing on the lawn to direct the delivery men, making a point to be seen by all the neighbours. Harriet didn't know it but the new items were all top of the range, designer products and her aunt was making sure that everyone saw them. However her snooty expression faded to something more strained when she saw Harry approaching.

"You're things have arrived." Was all she said by way of greeting before retreating back into the house. Harry was confused for a moment before she realised this must have been what Tom meant when he said he wouldn't have her living in squalor. He could be so dramatic sometimes!

Cautiously she followed the men carrying a desk up the stairs into the spare room. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she took in the sight. The room was nothing like she'd ever seen before. All the furnishings were thick and heavy and rich, the furniture all solid wood of elegant design and as she carefully sat on the new bed she knew it would be every bit as comfortable as the one at the Malfoy's. All of Dudley's things had been moved out and on the floor were two huge suitcases, probably bigger than her, that she found to be full of muggle clothes. She couldn't contain the huge grin as she looked around again. Maybe most children wouldn't be too impressed with such things, but Harry had never had anything of her own before. It was wonderful, but also utterly bizarre – like she was suck somewhere between her old life with the muggles and her new life with Tom. She sat in silence as a man appeared with the desk chair. It was overly ornate. Tom always called her silly, but she thought _he_ was rather silly. This was all so unnecessary – she'd only be here a month and as long as she didn't have to return to the cupboard she'd have been satisfied. Although, this was all very nice, so she wouldn't be complaining about the excess any time soon.

Once everything was in place she set about carefully putting away all her new clothes, changing into a beautifully embroidered sundress as she did, before deciding she should get her homework out of the way. She took a moment just sitting at the desk, feeling rather giddy that it was hers. It was of course all rather modest in caparison to Malfoy Manor, but she had felt more like a guest there; sleeping in someone's spare bed and using their wardrobes etc.

" _We'll have to get you your own things when you return then."_ She beamed again as Tom spoke.

" _Tom, this is all incredible, but you really didn't need to."_ She felt a distant amusement coming from him – he knew how much she appreciated it all and that was worth the trouble. Ok, so maybe ordering Narcissa to arrange the new items hadn't been that much trouble to him.

She set out her school books and pens before pulling forward the maths book. She was actually a little thirsty, but resigned herself to doing her short division before she ventured downstairs.

" _Go get a drink."_ Tom commanded, before thinking better of it. _"No, actually just call down and have one of the muggles make you one."_ Harry rolled her eyes.

" _I'm perfectly capable of making my own drinks."_

" _I know. You are capable of doing the dishes and laundry and cleaning, but that doesn't mean you should."_ He was actually more concerned with correcting her hesitation of facing her family than her ability to make drinks. He wouldn't have her spending the next month afraid to face them, and she needed to understand her superiority as much as they did.

She started to argue that she was fine and would get a drink later, and that he was making a big deal out of nothing, but he stayed firm.

" _If you don't order them to get you a drink, I'll not help you with any homework for the next week."_ He said calmly, but she knew he was serious and so huffed dramatically before standing. She didn't particularly need his help, as even if she didn't understand something she knew he wouldn't let her fall behind in the long term, but she wasn't prepared to forfeit his company over something so silly. She stood at the top of the stairs and opened her mouth. _"Order."_ He reminded her, so she steeled her voice as best she could.

"I want a cup of tea." She paused, "One sugar and milk." Her family wouldn't know how she took her tea. Tom held his amusement in: that was a terrible attempt at an order, but at least she hadn't phrased it as a question, so he stayed quiet. It was something they could work on.

All was quiet for a moment as she waited at the top of the stairs, preparing herself for the argument that was no doubt coming and then focusing her magic when she realised she'd probably have to give another demonstration as to why they should obey her. But of course no such thing was necessary, and after a few more moments her aunt stepped into the hallway and shouted back uncertainly.

"O-ok."

Her eyes were wide with shock, but Tom directed her back to her work while brushing the women's actions off as her merely knowing her place. Harry of course knew where Tom thought her aunt's place was, but hadn't expected her to agree so easily.

It had taken a week for Harry to accept that the muggles were going to cooperate, but when she did she decided to have some fun with it. She had mostly been left alone, but had been given three meals a day – meals that she took in her room after the first awkward dinner when she decided that she didn't want to eat with them. Her cousin had a permanent scowl when he looked at her but said nothing more than necessary. The only time he had started to bully her, Vernon had quickly snapped at him to shut up. Harry never heard anyone berate Dudley before! Vernon himself had yet to utter a single word to his niece.

"Uncle Vernon?" She asked from the doorway to the living room. The large man looked up, his cheeks puffing out as he struggled not to say the nasty things he wanted to. She gave him what she hoped was a hard look and was satisfied when he averted his eyes. Tom had told her not to let them look at her. It was a weird thing to ask, but she rather enjoyed it. "I want you to make my breakfast tomorrow." She saw one beefy hand clenching. "I want a full English." He made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a growl and she smiled. She was getting braver; trying to see how far she could push before they resisted.

" _I'm not going to eat it!"_ She stressed to Tom later that evening. _"I just wanted to see if he would."_

" _He will, if he knows what's good for him."_ He was amused by her attempts to exert her authority, but knew there was nothing really malicious about it – she was just being a child pushing new boundaries. He'd let her do it at her own pace though and hoped it would become second nature easily enough.

* * *

If the Malfoys had found Harry Potter's presence disconcerting, it only took a few hours of her absence for them to reassess that judgement and after a few weeks they could think of nothing they wanted more than to welcome the little girl back. Especially at times like this; when they were all lounging awkwardly in the living room, barely daring to breathe.

They had been enjoying a calm and lazy evening. Lucius sat in an armchair before a grand fireplace reading the late edition of the _Prophet,_ while across the room Narcissa flicked through design folders in search of inspiration for this year's Winter Ball and Draco sorted through his chocolate frog cards, moaning every so often about duplicates. It was a peaceful night. That was, until the Dark Lord strode into the room without acknowledging that it was already occupied, before taking a seat in the other armchair and staring into the roaring fire, the flames basking him in an amber glow of power.

It had taken a moment or two for Lucius to react and then he stood swiftly, his wife quickly following his example. "My Lord?" He half greeted/half questioned with a bowed head.

"Relax." Voldemort said, though it was ordered in such a tone that made them want to do anything but. All the same, the blonde returned to his seat, sending a brief look to his wife and rather at a loss of what to do. The problem was it was clear for anyone to see that the powerful man was annoyed. Not angry – nobody was screaming after all, but they all felt it might not take much to push him over the edge tonight. He sat back comfortably, but still managed to command the room without saying a word. Most wizards' magic was unnoticeable, but the air was always heavier when Voldemort was near and right now it felt as though waves of malicious intent rolled off him, permeating the air and making it a little harder to breath. Even Draco felt it and had become quiet and still, staring at the card he'd been holding when the man arrived, not wanting to draw attention by moving to pick up another.

The death eater also remained silent, trying to read so as to not disturb his master's thoughts, even as he secretly thought that maybe a distraction would be helpful.

Nobody would say it – they would barely dare think it – but the Dark Lord had been better company while Harry was staying with them. Ever since she'd been gone he was a lot less tolerant, a lot less patient and much quicker to anger.

Voldemort was annoyed that he couldn't pick up where he'd left off before losing his body. It had taken decades to build up a solid following and to infiltrate the various bastions of power in wizarding Britain. It would be easier than last time, already having a strong base to work on, but he still had to be careful about how he acted. For example, he decided against dealing with Snape right away.

As he thought about the traitor, his small _tsk_ made the Malfoys flinch rather violently. He normally revelled in the fear his mere presence could inspire in others, but at the moment it only served to irritate him further and his hand twitched with a desire to draw his wand.

Harriet continued to report that she'd seen nothing unusual – no strange people watching her or odd events, but today Tom had a spare ten minutes and by-chance had joined her as she was walking home from school, and just before she turned onto the path of number four, he'd seen her: a familiar tabby cat that was far too still as it watched the young girl from across the street. Knowing Dumbledore had sent one of his sheep to check up on Harry was almost enough to condemn Snape, and oh how he wanted to get have the man under his wand, to learn for sure just what he'd told the old man. But that would have to wait. If Snape was to suddenly go missing it would only cement the suspicion of the Dark Lord's return.

He let out a sigh – almost growling when Lucius flinched once more, wondering just when he'd gotten so used to Harry's cheek – and decided to put the matter to one side for now: it was infuriating that he had to be, but he could be patient when necessary. His next headache came from the Dementors of Azkaban. The dark creatures had always been ready to indulge his whims, but this time were less than happy that he wasn't planning to free them from ministry control any time soon, and as a result were making him work for their cooperation. Their current offer stood thus: 101 people in exchange for each prisoner the Dark Lord wanted released; one to replace the each prisoner (the ministry never checked on these old inmates), and one hundred souls as compensation. Voldemort was looking to free ten of his inner circle, which left him wondering how to source 1010 people without raising suspicion – or at least less suspicion than an outright attack on the fortress, otherwise what was the point?

The answer, naturally, came from Harry a few days later.

" _You need 1010 people? Whatever for?"_ He grinned, thinking of her reaction if he were to tell of his intentions.

" _You don't need to know."_ He replied, almost laughing at her own annoyance about being treated like a child, but he couldn't let her muttering go unpunished.

" _Stupid Dark Lords with their stupid plans and... ouch!"_ She cried out as a short sharp pain shot through her head. She held her head a moment more before huffing. _"Fine, I'm sorry."_ She bit out.

" _Harriet."_ She was instantly humbled by the warning tone, quickly realising she didn't want to feel that pain again, fleeting though it had been.

"I'm sorry," She said out loud. "I shouldn't have been so disrespectful." All was silent for a moment. She knew he would forgive her, but sometimes he made her work for it, so she quickly moved back to the previous topic. "You could sink a ship!" Feeling ever so faint confusion through the link, she continued: "I heard there is this place called the Bermuda Triangle where boats go missing all the time, though obviously you would have to do it closer to home," She rambled, "You could sink a cruise ship and direct all the life-boats to… wherever…" She wasn't sure if he was even being serious about finding so many people and decided this was just one of his strange ideas.

Tom was pleasantly surprised. It was true that sometimes the best (most childish), solution was the best solution. He could imagine diverting a ship (no need to mess about with sinking it), and running it aground on Azkaban.

Instead of responding to her throw-away idea, he chastised her for her laziness. After all, she hadn't been practising the Occlumency exercises he gave her.

* * *

 **I apologise for the delay – I've been away from home – and for the slower chapter. I'll try to update again ASAP.**

 **Also thank you so, so much for all the wonderful reviews. You are amazing xx**


	13. Back Again

Harry stood, rocking on the balls of her feet excitedly as she waited for Lucius to come pick her up. She was going to miss this park, not that there was much to it, but she'd hidden from her family here so often over the years that she felt like she was leaving behind an old friend. It didn't help that it was a pleasant evening for early October and the scenery looked more beautiful than it had any right to look.

This was the only thing she would miss about the entire muggle world that she was hoping to leave behind forever. This last week had flown by because it was so full of 'lasts'. The last time she packed her PE kit for school; the last time she walked to school in the lashing rain; her last bath in the house; her last shower there; the last time she put away clothes and made her bed, and on and on the usually mundane actions seemed surreal.

And then there was the mixed feeling she had about leaving her family. She was just a child, after all, and however awful they were, part of her still wanted them to love her – she yearned for it.

Trying to dismiss these thoughts, she thought back over the last week or so. There had been a few 'firsts' there too. Like the first time she'd felt, even if just for a second, afraid of Tom:

 _Harry paused as she walked towards the stairs, before diverting her steps to the lounge. She'd been heading up to her room after an afternoon in the garden when the sound of the news caught her attention._

 _"…thorough search is ongoing in the effort to find the missing ship…" Harry gulped. No way. It was just a coincidence. "…taking its passengers on a cruise to the Norwegian fjords when it lost all contact shortly after entering the North Sea…"_

 _Petunia noticed the girl's presence, glancing at her before finding something in the hall just behind her to focus on. Harry smirked, as amused as always at the change in her family. She could hardly believe it lasted the duration of her stay._

 _"Is there something you need?" Petunia asked, though it was obvious from her tone that she hoped there wasn't._

 _Harry just walked away. It just had to be a coincidence… and if it wasn't she didn't want to know… it was too real…_

Then there was the first conversation she'd ever had with her aunt that could be considered friendly:

 _On the night before she was due to leave Privet Drive forever, her aunt came to her door._

 _"Harriett?" She called softly, to which Harry glared. She hated it when Petunia spoke like that. She'd much prefer harsh, shrill shouting and frying pans to the head – at least they could be trusted, at least they were honest._

 _She watched carefully from her sitting position at the head of the bed as her aunt stepped into the room. The women continued until she was sitting at the other end of the bed, which surprised Harry, though she fought not to let it show._

 _"Is it true? You're really leaving?" Petunia looked into her niece's eyes, and Harry, moved by the sincerity from the normally hateful woman, simply nodded. "When Dumbledore left you here with us, he wrote that you were in danger from, from the man who killed your parents." Not letting her emotions show was becoming harder, because this was something Harry tried not to think about. She stayed quiet. "You are… safe, aren't you? With the people you're going to?" Petunia shivered. "Vernon said the man he spoke to about you was evil…"_

 _"Its fine, aunt Petunia. I trust him more than anyone in the world. Dumbledore no longer has power here." The women glanced down at the angry red scar across Harry's wrist and Harry hastily wrapped that arm around herself. "That's nothing." Petunia looked unsure, she looked like she wanted to say more, but instead stood, apparently appeased by Harry's confirmation that she was indeed leaving forever. Before going she turned to Harry and rested her hand on the child's shoulder for a moment. She hoped Harry was right and was of the opinion the girl would be better placed amongst her own kind. Most importantly, Dudley would never have to learn of magic; he'd never know the pain of knowing his cousin was special in a way he could never be. Their lives could go back to normal now, back to the way things always should have been._

Thinking back about her family again, Harry just wanted to see Tom. She knew that she'd feel better as soon as she was with someone who actually cared about her.

When she finally caught sight of Lucius she took one last sure look around. Change was scary, but that didn't mean she didn't want this.

As soon as the unpleasant feeling caused by apparition subsided, Harry asked where Tom was and Lucius replied that he was busy right now, but was instructed to inform her that he'd come to see her as soon as he could.

The blonde cursed when Harry spun on her heels and ran into his house, and quickly drew his wand as he set off after her. He didn't actually know what he was going to do though. The last time he'd pointed his wand at this girl Voldemort reacted badly. It was obvious his Lord valued the girl for some reason and dreaded what would happen if he stunned or bound her.

Harry raced through the halls at full speed, confident she was faster than the old man chasing her. She couldn't explain it, but she _knew_ Tom was here and she wanted to see him. She had to make sure this was really happening, not to mention that she was hurt he once again had something better to do than see her, even after a month away.

Lucius rounded a corner just in time to see her swing open the doors to the dining room and acted without thinking, flicking his wand at her to cast a glamour. The Dark Lord had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure her presence here was unknown and short of restraining her, this was all he could think of in the second he had to act.

All eyes swung to the doors at the sudden interruption and so those present missed the smile that played momentarily on Lord Voldemort's face.

Stood frozen and wide-eyed in the doorway was a young girl, who they took to be a relation of Lucius', what with her straight blonde hair and bright blue eyes and the fact the Malfoy Lord was just behind her, looking a little out of breath and apprehensive.

Bellatrix glanced back to her Lord with anticipation at what would become of her brother in-law for allowing such blatant disrespect.

Tom looked over Harry. He was glad to see she looked as healthy as she had before she left, although he didn't expect her to still be so pale, but suspected that was more to do with his followers – she was looking at them as though they were a bunch of wild dogs she thought would attack at any moment.

"Come here." He spoke softly, but she shook her head rigorously. More heads turned to him at the disobedience, not sure what to expect. Lord Voldemort didn't have much time for children – they were useless to him.

Whatever they were thinking, not one of them was expecting _him_ to go _her_. Bella was disturbed that her Lord had to go to such trouble and spoke quietly.

"My Lord, let me deal with the little…" She swallowed her following words at the dark glare he sent her way. She ducked her head in submission and he didn't slow in his walk down the long table, only stopping once he was a few steps out of the room. Harry turned as he took a step past her and once he stopped she grabbed a small handful of his robes, just to make sure he was actually there. It was only then she felt safe.

Tom did nothing to discourage the action, but ignored her a moment to look at Lucius, his piercing red eyes dancing with a mirth that put the blonde on high alert. Nothing Voldemort found funny was ever good.

"It seems you are incapable of handling a little girl, Lucius." There wasn't a hint of amusement in his voice and several of those behind sneered at the blonde. They didn't exactly appreciate how he'd been living the good life while they wasted away in Azkaban and were eager to see the man subjected to their Lord's wrath. "I overestimated you."

"I apologise, My Lord. I did tell…" Voldemort cut him off sharply.

"I do hope you aren't about to pass the blame for your own failures to an eight year old child." Lucius tried to swallow down his fear. He could admit that train of thought had been a mistake – his Lord obviously favoured the girl. "Lucius," He looked up from his musings. "Finish that sentence." The command was almost ground out. It was almost a dare, a challenge.

"I, I did tell her of your message, but should have ensured your directions were followed." He amended, waiting for the response with bated breath.

After considering the man for a few seconds Voldemort spoke, his voice still hard. "You may take your seat." Lucius bowed his head and carefully stepped around them to enter the room. He couldn't feel relieved yet.

Once the blonde was in the room the doors slammed shut, and many at the table worried a little for the girl. Though of course none were about to intervene on her behalf. As good as their Lord had been to them in reward for their loyalty, they didn't imagine for a second they wouldn't be punished the second they stepped out of line.

Outside, Tom's eyes softened when he looked down.

"You can release me now." He teased. She'd forgotten she was holding on to him, and her hand was now white because of how much tighter her grip had become. She still hadn't gotten used to how Tom spoke with other people; how powerful he was.

He watched as her hand unclenched, but was then attacked as she jumped at him. He managed to catch her again, but she really had to stop doing that, or to give a warning at the very least.

He held her, having to all but tell himself to shut-up so he could just enjoy the moment. The voice at the back of his mind that constantly reminded him that this was a weakness, a mistake, was getting quieter and quieter and after a week of her being back with the Dursleys he'd decided to ignore it altogether. He'd just have to make sure he didn't let it become a weakness.

He set her down and smiled when he found himself faced with that familiar glare. She wouldn't say why she was so displeased but it was easy enough to tell, even without access to her thoughts.

"Lucius told you I'd see you soon." He decided to deal with the disobedience first – he couldn't have her running in on him all the time. She turned her face away.

"You said I didn't have to listen to him." She said cheekily.

"That won't work for a second. The instruction came from me and you knew that."

Shaking her head she hit back. "Nope, I'm not psychic. He could have been making it up." Tom wanted to laugh: Lucius wasn't stupid enough to try something like that.

"Did it seem like an unreasonable request?" He tried. He could just tell it was going to be one of _those_ talks.

"Yes!" She exclaimed, pouting with arms crossed and looking every bit her age. It was easier to remember she was just a child when he could actually see her. He sighed, deciding not to address her complaints about being overlooked. He couldn't just drop everything for her. That would be a weakness.

"Well in the future, accept what the Malfoys tell you if they say it's from me. And if it seems unreasonable, use your head." He punctuated this with a flick to her forehead, to which she scowled. " _Ask me before barging in."_ "And never interrupt me when I'm working. If you do so again I'll not be pleased. Understand?" She was still scowling, but at least nodded. "Good, now go play with Draco."

Rolling her eyes she started to make her way down the hall, defeated and feeling unwanted.

"And Harry?" She turned back. "I'm glad to have you back." She couldn't contain her beaming smile.

"I missed you too."


	14. House Rules 2

"Ah!" Draco dropped to the floor and scuttled out of his uncle Rabastan's reach before taking off in a run to a nearby row of bushes. Harry took the opportunity to get in a quick push against the man's back and then she too put a little distance between them, laughing as she watched him look around.

"Hmm," He said dramatically. "I can definitely hear a little witch here somewhere." He turned to her direction and walked with outstretched arms, as though he were feeling the air for her.

Bellatrix watched on with a frown. Draco and Harry were pretending to be a wicked wizard and witch that could become invisible, which was why the man was pretending he couldn't see them as he tried to catch the children. The bushes were den. She knew Rabastan could be childish when in the privacy of their own home (or even a temporary one), just like her husband, so wasn't exactly surprised to find him playing with the children, but there was just something off about the girl. She supposed it was possible that Cissy was having her over as company for Draco, but she didn't act like a Malfoy, or indeed the way she imagined even a distant branch of the family would act. She didn't even know how to eat certain foods.

The biggest clue that something was wrong here was the warning her Lord had given about the child. He hadn't left any of them in any doubt that if they so much as touched a hair on her head, they'd beg to be sent back to Azkaban. It was disturbing. What could possibly be so special about the girl that she was more valuable than the Dark Lord's most loyal? Lucius told them she was the one responsible for bringing Voldemort back, and though that would indeed make her special, how could it possibly be true? It made no sense, especially as she watched Henrietta, or Harry, as she preferred to be called, thrashing wildly as Rab tickled her.

Harry managed to escape and made flight to the bushes to catch her breath. She'd been back for over two weeks now and could honestly say she was happy. It was a nice feeling.

Later on her first evening back Tom had come to find her as promised, and once more reminded her that she didn't have to be afraid of anyone here, however 'scary' they were, particularly when he was even in the room with them! They agreed that she would continue to be wear the glamour while the others were staying here, but he also assured that they wouldn't be here for too long and then she could drop it unless someone else was in the house. The Malfoys were an important family in Society and had their fair share of visitors.

The next morning Narcissa had introduced her to everyone at breakfast, and it didn't take long for her to get used to being back here, or the extra people. Things had changed again, but all for the better. She had joined Draco in his lessons in order to continue her education. That took up several hours a day, but not as many as muggle school had, and so left lots of time free to do as she pleased. It was time she wasn't sure what to do with at first, but was quickly absorbed into the Malfoy's routines; visiting various places with Draco and his mum and such. A couple of times Tom had put time aside to teach her, but even though it wasn't every day, she still saw him almost every day and could of course talk to him any time. It was great. For the first time in her life she felt like she was truly free, that she could just… be.

Later that day Harry was in Draco's room. He was showing off his chocolate frog card collection, but it was actually very informative and gave her an overview of important and famous wizards, present and past. Any information on her new culture was welcomed.

One of the cards fell from the bed, and she summoned it back easily.

"Woah." Draco said before gathering himself to sit up straight. "Of course, I've had plenty of accidental magic, but much bigger things," Harry was confused as her friend kept talking, "I made plate explode – one of mother's best china, completely ruined the set – and one time I actually pushed my friend Blaise over with magic." He seemed very proud about this and she wasn't sure what to say.

"Well, I've done things accidentally." She thought maybe she should reciprocate with her own experiences. "Like once when my cousin was chasing me I was on the ground one moment and on the school roof the next…" Noticing his wide eyes she stopped. She didn't like him looking at her like that.

* * *

In another part of the house Voldemort had called Lucius and Narcissa to the room he was using as an office. After bowing to him they sat down as instructed.

Tom was uncertain about what he should do with Harriet, and he absolutely detested uncertainty. He'd found one of his properties that was undiscovered and had spent a few weeks ensuring the wards were up to scratch. It was now ready to be used as his new headquarters. He could hardly run his forces from Malfoy Manor, not without being discovered.

This of course meant that he and the escapees would soon be moving, and initially he had every intention of taking Harry with him. However he'd seen how happy she had been these last two weeks and it got him to thinking. A little girl needed friends for a start, and while he wasn't above taking a few of his followers' children (and he imagined those recently out of Azkaban wouldn't mind their children being brought to live with them), she simply wouldn't have the freedom she had here. So now he was more inclined to leave her here, but it depended on how the Malfoys felt about that. He could order them to take her in, but if they resented her being here it would eventually show and he wouldn't have her in another situation where she felt unwanted.

"Before I start, I want to make it very clear that I expect you both to be completely honest. You _will_ speak freely, I don't care if you're afraid of saying something you think I don't want to hear;" He sneered a little, "You'll say it anyway." Both husband and wife were intrigued and tad apprehensive at the strange order. Speaking freely to Lord Voldemort was normally reserved for the stupid, masochistic and suicidal.

"Of course, My Lord." They replied. He looked at them for a moment, wondering whether he should have just had them drink Veritaserum.

"What is this about, My Lord?" Lucius dropped the usual 'may I ask' part and directly questioned the man, both to test the waters and to reassure his master that he understood the orders. He also very much wanted the answer to his question.

"It's about what is to become of young Harriet." That surprised the parents, though they supposed it shouldn't have. What was it about Harry Potter? "I wish to leave her in your care, but will not do so unless you are happy to take her in and are capable of treating her as you would your own child." Or a thousand times better, he wanted to add, but didn't because he knew that wouldn't work. He watched as they shared a brief look, almost hoping they would refuse.

"It, it would take a little getting used to." Narcissa started tentatively. When Voldemort gave no response she continued, praying she was correct in thinking they wouldn't be punished. "But she's a pleasant child. It might actually be good for Draco to have someone else around…" She trailed off.

"Yes?" He pushed. She looked to her husband, unsure whether she should continue. "Speak!" He commanded, having little patience for their cowardice.

"Well," Narcissa started immediately in response to the command, but paused briefly to gather her thoughts. "Well, it's just that, if she were to stay here, we-we'd have to be able to discipline her. The same as Draco." She added quickly at seeing the Dark Lord's narrowing eyes. From what she'd seen, his idea of discipline was a world apart from parental discipline. They had never hurt Draco and never would, but she knew that Voldemort would.

She was about to speak again, but quickly shut her mouth, fearing she'd said too much already when the Dark Lord stood suddenly and took out his wand.

"But, but of course, it doesn't…" She tried to backtrack but he silenced her.

When he first felt Harry's emotions, he was a little put out that she still couldn't guard her thoughts, but then he felt the intense sadness and shame and fear, and that wasn't acceptable. Knowing she was with the mini Malfoy, a part of him wondered what he could have possibly done to make her feel so very bad, but mostly he wanted to teach the boy a lesson in why it wasn't a good idea to upset his Harriet.

He was making his way to the door when her emotions suddenly changed to a fierce anger. Well, this was better, he thought, at least she wasn't just rolling over in self-pity, but he still wanted to know what had invoked such strong emotions.

"Come!" He ordered the Malfoys, not pausing in his stride as he knew they would follow.

* * *

"What's the matter? It's just accidental magic, right?" Draco sniffed at the question.

"You're lying." He said. He wasn't about to be outdone by a girl raised by muggles. Harry threw the card at him, not that it did much good, it didn't even reach him.

"I am not" She defended. "And who cares about some stupid accidental magic anyway? It's not like you can take any real credit for it – it's _accidental_!" She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. It shows we have magic! And until we get our wands it's what shows that we're better than the muggle filth."

Harry nodded. "But it's not all we have is it? We can do basic stuff without a wand after all."

"You're so stupid!" Draco couldn't believe how little Harry knew of magic. "What do you mean by 'stuff'? You have to have a wand to direct magic." Harry wasn't following this conversation at all.

"No, you're stupid!" Stuff like this!" The piles of cards scattered across the bed rose up and started to dance around the two children. Draco gasped. Even his older friends, the one who'd already started their magical education couldn't do things like this. In fact he couldn't think of anyone he knew that could do magic without a wand!

"Oh Merlin, you're such a freak!" Draco was deadly serious. This was bizarre, not to mention how jealous he was.

Harry, whose emotions were already heightened at the confrontational tone the evening had taken, took those words badly.

 _Freak._

It was her name until Tom convinced her she had another.

 _Freak._

It seemed she just couldn't escape. She was a freak after all, even here in the world of magic, the place she thought she finally belonged.

 _Freak._

Her family was right. Her magic wasn't liberation or a blessing. It damned her.

 _Freak._

It was no wonder they never loved her.

 _You're such a freak._

She should have known she could never have friends. How had she forgotten that? She couldn't rely on anyone. Only Tom would ever value her.

 _Tom._

She didn't need anyone else. Tom had taught her how to use magic and that made her special. She wasn't a freak! She was better than the others. People only found her freaky because she was special in what she could do. And now that she was away from the muggles; now that she was here with Tom, she didn't have to put up with it anymore.

"What's wrong with you?" Draco interrupted her thoughts. He was looking at her with distaste again.

 _Freak._

 _Tom!_

She acted before she knew what she was doing and dived at the blonde, pushing him from the bed and toppling off after him. He immediately reacted and pushed her hard, causing a break in her momentum and she fell to the side, hitting her head against a set of drawers. Not feeling any pain or noticing the blood falling into her eye she lunged again and threw her fist at Draco. He responded with his own.

Harry had never been in a fight before and had no idea what had come over her. She just knew she had to shut him up, to prove him wrong. Being so young they were pretty evenly matched, though Harry had an advantage; she'd been on the receiving end of enough beatings from Dudley and the children at school to know how to function through the pain.

They only stopped when the door flew open, and they were overcome by a pressure of such suffocatingly dark power that both children felt their throats constrict and fell back to turn scared eyes to the door. There stood Lord Voldemort. And he looked absolutely murderous.


	15. The Way It Is

Voldemort was angry, angrier than the Malfoys could recall him being since his return, and nothing but the fact that their baby boy was in that room would make them step inside voluntarily. They stopped just off to their Lord's left and felt a sickening dread threatening to consume them when their eyes fell on Potter. She was bleeding! And from the pink swelling starting to take form on both children, it looked like they'd been fighting. Narcissa saw how terribly frightened her boy was and desperately wanted to go to him, but of course she didn't, knowing there was likely nothing she could do but beg, lest she make things worse.

For a long while Tom didn't move. _It's just a children's quarrel, it's just a children's quarrel, it's just a children's quarrel._ He told himself over and over again, not wanting to overreact, given the subject of his previous conversation, but his little mantra wasn't working. Oh, how he wanted to hurt Draco! His Harry was beaten and bleeding! He'd brought her here to protect her and these insignificant worms had…

His power flared out angrily, filling the room with such oppressive dark magic that it affected those present on an instinctual level; driving them with an overwhelming need to submit, to grovel, to worship. Even Harry felt it from where she sat on the floor, staring at Tom with wide, frightened eyes. It was the first time in her life she had been truly terrified, and she couldn't even comprehend that it was because of Tom! She knew he was powerful, but this? He wasn't even doing anything yet!

Tom was looking down at her shaking friend.

"I was quite clear that Harriet was not to be touched." He said in a quiet, dangerous voice that was somehow worse than if he was shouting. He pointed his wand at Lucius. "I am choosing to believe that you were not aware of this." His mocking tone spoke volumes of how little he actually believed that. "And that therefore it is your parents who failed in their duty to warn you not to commit such an offence. I am a merciful Lord, young Draco, and will only place the blame where it belongs. Crucio!" Lucius fell, his cries of pain transcending those he'd made on Harry's first night here.

Though the curse was aimed at the older Malfoy, Tom never took his eyes from Draco. He watched as he trembled and cried pathetically, spewing out quiet desperate apologies. Tom knew there were many ways to torture someone. After some time, he flicked his wand across to Narcissa and repeated the curse. The woman immediately joined her husband on the floor.

"M-m-mummy!" Draco cried out, before turning once more to the Dark Lord, whimpering at his intense stare. Tom took a little satisfaction at seeing the boy broken down so, watching helpless as his parents – his providers and protectors, those that gave him love – writhed in agony; punished because of his actions. That guilt and fear and feeling of helplessness would forever be imprinted on the boy as a reminder of what happens when one disobeys their Lord.

He lifted the curse from the now weeping woman and glanced across to Harry.

It was only when he caught sight of the little girl that her intense anguish finally reached through his burning anger. She too was trembling, her knees pulled up to her chest, eyes screwed shut and hands clamped firmly over her ears in a futile attempt to block out the screams. Tom frowned as he thought that she was also taking in Draco's lesson. That wouldn't do at all.

" _Harry."_ He called to her softly. As soon as she lifted her head and he saw the terror in her eyes, his rage was quelled significantly. Doused viciously by icy waters. An onlooker might think it a victory to see the girl responsible for his downfall in this position, but it wasn't, not one bit. It actually made him feel, if only a little, physically ill. _"Harry, come here."_

When she realised his attention was now on her Harry shook her head weakly and backed up a little.

" _Tom, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. Please don't hurt me."_ When those final words reached him, Tom's anger spiked for a second, before he forced himself to calm down, putting away his wand so that he didn't react physically. He'd never given her any reason to think he'd do something like that to her! He'd treated her with more care and compassion that anyone else in his long life and yet she dared say that to him? He let out a much needed, calming breath.

"Harriet, come here." He spoke out loud, quietly, but firmly as he held out his hand. She'd felt his anger when she spoke, and deciding not to make it any worse she forced herself to get up and take the shaky steps over to him. When she took his hand, her fear lessened a little, though she was still a quivering wreck.

Tom glanced down at the parents kneeling shakily before him. "I will deal with this tomorrow." He spoke with a low even tone, before leading Harriet out into the hallway and shutting the door behind him carefully. It wasn't for the Malfoys' benefit of course, he just knew it would take Harry a while to calm down and didn't want to make it worse.

Outside the door, he turned to look at Harry and wondered if he shouldn't have left her for the Malfoys to comfort. But seeing her so distressed, he just couldn't. Her eyes flickered up to him before turning away in less than a second. He sighed.

" _Harry, I'm not going to hurt you. I don't ever want to hurt you."_ He hadn't meant to say that last part, but he supposed it was true. I would hurt her, he knew, but he didn't want to. He doubted he'd even be able to cast the Cruciatus curse at her, you had to mean it after all, and wanted to kick himself. That was surely a weakness. It was obvious that she wasn't going to reply, so he stepped forwards and lifted her up.

Harry let out a small gasp: Tom never initiated anything affectionate, but she gladly accepted the comfort, curling to bury her head in his robes as she sobbed. After what seemed like a terrible nightmare, she felt safe again.

Tom didn't care if she was too old to be held. He doubted he would think so even when she was fully grown. Nor did he care that she was getting blood, snot and tears all over him. When he realised he was being ridiculous again, he put the thoughts from his mind and carried her towards her bedroom.

It did indeed take her a long while to calm down and he thought it a miracle that his patience lasted so long, but this wasn't just an upset child – he'd really shaken her up. At one point there he wanted to give her something to cry about, but he refrained, and when she finally stopped he quietly went about treating her injuries, as well as handing her a pain potion for the headache she no doubt had after so many tears. Eventually, he sat beside her on the bed.

"Harry, you know why they had to be punished, don't you?" She looked upset again, guilty at the question. "No more tears!" He ordered before he could stop himself. She sniffed to try to stop them and he quickly amended: "I mean, you don't have to cry anymore."

"But it was my fault." She said tiredly. "They were punished because I attacked Draco."

"Silly child," He was immensely relieved to see her scowl at the familiar words, weak though it was. He cupped her cheek. "It was not your fault." He said sternly, trying to make her understand before bringing back his hand. "I doubt you just attacked him for no reason, and even if you had, he knows that you are not to be harmed."

"But I started it." She insisted, to which Tom chuckled.

"It doesn't matter." She frowned, but he was still smiling. "Do I need to define 'untouchable' for you?" He teased.

"But, that's not fair." He shook his head.

"That's the way I say it is, so that's the way it is."

Finally, after one of the strangest nights of Tom's life, he got her to smile. She rolled her eyes at him and let out a shaky breath, before hugging him tightly.

"I love you, Tom."

* * *

After sitting with Harriet until she fell asleep, Voldemort apparated to his headquarters on Bleeding Wolf Lane. He was feeling rather tired himself, but also oddly motivated. For example, during the evening he'd thought of at least three new things he wanted to do to the Dursleys, all of whom he had chained safely in the dungeons. But they could wait, and so first he headed to a heavily warded door upstairs. This could turn out to be a migraine waiting to happen or pleasantly entertaining. One never could tell with Black.

He entered the guest room to find a large black shaggy dog crouched low beside the double bed, growling menacingly. He sighed loudly and turned to close the door, making obvious how little he thought of the other man's attempt at threatening behaviour. He turned back with a raised eyebrow.

"I thought I made clear that I don't appreciate you taking that form in my presence." The dog stayed in place. "No? Oh well." He drew his wand, but before he could aim, the dog transformed back into form of Sirius Black. Voldemort smirked.

"Fine, Merlin! You don't have to be such a psycho about it!" Black spat, though a tiny part of him regretted it when the Dark Lord narrowed his sharp red eyes and promptly pointed that awful, pale wand straight at him. He needed to learn to choose his battles.

Voldemort watched the man struggle, but easily forced him to his knees, enjoying the self-hate and shame in his eyes at being in that position before his enemy.

"You would do well to learn respect, Black, before I'm forced to teach you some." He sneered. "And believe me; you won't like my teaching methods." Sirius believed that completely, and so stayed quiet, though he couldn't contain the hateful, disgusted glare. He'd been at the end of Voldemort's wand several times since being brought here weeks ago, but knew it could have been much worse. That thought alone terrified him: what was this monster up to? What did he want if not to simply torture and kill him? He had to pick his battles, he reminded himself, pick his battles and wait for the opportunity to rip the psycho's throat out, or at least take as many of his death eaters with him as he could. Voldemort was up to something, something that meant Sirius wasn't in chains, and while that was the case, he had a shot.

Keeping Black on his knees, Voldemort summoned a lush arm chair – might as well get comfy, besides visual aides were helpful in persuading people of their place.

Sirius scoffed at the elaborate, throne like seat, but quietened at the unnerving smile from his captor.

"Now, now, little dog." The Dark Lord chided, "I've rescued you from that hellish prison, given you plentiful food, shelter; all the home comforts," he mocked, "I've even provided you with the same medical care as my dear followers, so you have no reason to be so hostile." His eyes narrowed, and the next works came out as a hiss. "You should be thankful!"

"Thankful?!" Sirius snorted loudly. "No reason?! How about every person you've tortured and killed? Every life that you've destroyed? How about…" He didn't get to finish his furious rant. Voldemort leaned back in his seat with a long suffering sigh and flicked his wand at him lazily, as though this whole thing was a bore. Sirius instantly felt the muscles in his calves start to cramp, and the red-eyed wizard watched for a while as he desperately struggled against the invisible bonds, trying to alleviate the pain while clenching his teeth fiercely to stop from saying anything or from crying out beyond his low grunts of pain.

The pain ended and he almost welcomed the ache left behind, though he dearly wanted to stretch out his muscles. He looked up to see his captor twirling his wand. He never knew that could look so threatening.

"Shall we try again?" The man said, and Sirius set about mentally cursing himself: so much for being smart and picking his battles; he just couldn't help himself, could he? Still, he couldn't shake that uneasy feeling – from what he knew of this man, Sirius was getting off easy.

"Why?" He tried. "Why are you doing this?"

"Don't you think you should be more polite when asking something of me? What did I just say about respect?" Black grit his teeth while he quietly seethed, and Tom decided he rather enjoyed winding up the animagus. "Would you rather I killed you?" He asked pleasantly.

Black looked up straight into his eyes. "Yes." He'd rather he dead than used by Voldemort.

Hearing that answer, the Dark Lord leaned forward, his whole face darkening dangerously, and for a moment Sirius panicked, wondering what he'd done to land him in such dangerous territory; his fight/flight response screaming at him to do something. Anything.

"Well then, I'm disappointed. I seem to have given you far too much credit." His voice was sibilant, barely above a whisper. "To think that you, who caused me so much trouble, would be broken by a mere six years in prison." He laughed nastily. "'Sirius Black', the auror who took out so many of my Death Eaters, now a weak, pathetic, _selfish_ man, on his knees asking his enemy for death!"

As he spoke, Sirius could feel the Dark Lord's anger – it was heavy in the room – and he was utterly confused by it. He wasn't any of those things. Selfish? He just didn't want to be used to hurt others.

"So disappointing." Voldemort repeated before standing and for the first time, casting the Cruciatus at Harry's godfather.

* * *

 **I know he was super soft with her here, but she was really distressed. Time skip in the next chapter. Hopefully.**

 **As always, thanks for reading and thank you so much for reviewing - Love you guys xx**

 **Also, there's actually a Bleeding Wolf Lane near where I live, and I just had to use the name lol.**


	16. Building a Home 1

Harry skipped breakfast and stayed in her room the next morning, not yet ready to face the Malfoys after everything that happened last night. She was trying to see everything from Tom's point of view, but still fell terribly guilty.

 _"I do hope you aren't hiding."_ Tom teasing in that knowing way of his.

 _"Of course not!"_ He laughed, obviously not convinced.

 _"Good, then come down to the front parlour."_ And with that he was gone, so Harry threw on some clothes and reluctantly made her way downstairs.

She paused with uncertainty after opening the door. Inside Tom was stood, wand in hand, looking down at the three Malfoys kneeling before him. Harry gulped, nervous about what was happening. Draco was shaking again and her guilt returned with force.

Lucius heard the girl making her way over to the Dark Lord and tried not to think about what would happen next. He had that same dread he felt whenever he'd failed or offended his master in some way, which was ridiculous, because this was merely about some petty fight between children. Although he supposed he ought to be grateful that his son hadn't been punished as he had technically disobeyed.

Everything was quiet for some time, so he glanced up to see what was going on: Voldemort and Harry were staring at each other again, the latter with a screwed up face and his Lord with a raised eyebrow. They did this a lot, and it was a little unnerving when it went on for some time, as it was now. If he had to guess, Lucius would say they had of a way of communicating silently, and a small part of him felt bad about just what the man had done to the little girl to make that possible – she must surely have been subjected to dark magic at some point.

When Harry finally gave in with a loud huff, Tom looked down and smirked as his Death Eater quickly dropped his curious gaze. The blonde family no doubt thought they were here to receive further punishment, and he had done nothing to convince them otherwise. He'd much rather punish them than what he was about to do, though in reality he knew it was such a small, trifling thing.

Harry had been more resistant than he thought she'd be when he told her he would be giving the Malfoy parents a shred of authority over her, but when he realised why, it had taken a great deal of effort not to laugh loudly. At first she thought he meant to give them the same power over her as Tom, but even after he'd corrected that she still seemed hesitant, and he had to go rooting to find what worried her: She was concerned that she'd be stuck with a new set of Dursleys, who'd punish and revile her as often as they could. She really was very silly. As if he'd ever allow that to happen. He'd offered to torture them again to show her of how little power they really had, and of what would happen should they abuse that power. She was quick to fall in line after that, easily reminded about what he'd told her last night. She was untouchable.

"Yesterday Harriet and Draco fought, and I think it would be in the best interests of everyone present if this didn't become a regular occurrence." Tom started. "Therefore I'm leaving it to you, my faithful friends, to resolve the situation. I've dealt with Draco's offence, now you will deal with the children." That certainly surprised the parents, but real shock was still to come: "Harry, while you are in this home you will mind them, you'll listen to what they tell you and accept any punishments they see fit." Lucius nearly choked at that. Harry just glared. He had told her to contact him if she didn't agree with anything they said or did, anything at all, but didn't think she'd have any problems following their rules. After all, she still expected punishments to consist of physical abuse and neglect and the Malfoys were far too savvy to try anything so drastic, sure as he was that they'd actually be very careful not to upset her in any way.

 _"Harriet, I'll be gone for the rest of the day, but remember; anything at all."_ After seeing her nod in understanding he left the room and the manor.

He'd be watching how the Malfoy's went about their task now they believed him to be gone. He just couldn't help himself. He was loathe giving anyone any power over something as precious to him as Harry and would be much more comfortable having them grovel before her. But he also wanted her to stay here, where she could truly experience all the world had to offer her, to carve out friendships and submerse herself in magical culture. He wasn't at all inclined to play guardian to a child, and wouldn't have the time to give her the attention she deserved.

However, after last night, he knew for certain that he could not simply leave her here to be cared for. Earlier this year he'd told her that he wasn't going anywhere, and although he would see how she got on here, this wouldn't be her only home. He'd decided to make her a portkey so she could come to Bleeding Wolf Lane whenever she wished, and she would have a bedroom and all the necessary items a child would need in both locations. She would of course be subjected to much stricter rules at his headquarters, but knew she'd come anyway. If things worked out with Black, she might even have a familial presence here.

A large part of him still wanted to keep her locked away somewhere, or to always keep her near so he could ensure her wellbeing and the safety of his Horcrux. That he would put her best interests above his own wishes, and that his Horcrux was a secondary concern made him want to hurt someone, so after watching a nausea inducing yet comical fifteen minutes of conflict resolution that must have come straight from the Parents' Handbook he decided to head up to check on Black, and then have Bella join him for a visit with the Dursleys.

He found the man right where he'd left him almost seven hours before; passed out on the floor of his bedroom and looking quite beaten and broken. He felt better already.

Sirius woke as he was levitated to the bed by who he could only assume was a healer. He wanted to resist as the man set about treating him, but he was drained and so weak that he even had to be helped to lift his head in order to swallow potions, potions that he greedily accepted in the hopes of alleviating the terrible aches and pains that coursed through his whole body.

* * *

The next time his eyes opened he felt a thousand times better. He was still sore and stiff, but at least he could move. His right arm was oddly numb and held securely in a sling, but the rest of his body seemed to be in working order, more or less. He was confused by the bright light shining in through a crack in his curtains –he felt well rested so couldn't believe it was still daytime.

He shuddered when he remember back to his last meeting with Voldemort. The man had really gone to town on him. So many times in the past he joked and mocked those who trembled and scraped at Voldemort's feet. He called them weak. But maybe now he knew better. It was a disgusting thought, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to suffer that level of pain for long before he too was begging for death. So he was immensely relieved to have been healed, to have had time to get his strength back, both physically and mentally. He tried not to think of whether he would be needing that renewed fortitude anytime soon. Maybe Voldemort didn't really have any ulterior motive, maybe he was just toying with him, taking his time in breaking him.

Hearing a gentle snore, his head spun round to find the healer from this morning sleeping uncomfortably in the chair beside his bed, and Sirius' didn't hesitate before gently edging forward, trying not to make a sound as he stood and quietly stepped to him. It didn't take long to locate the man's wand, and Sirius heartbeat was rapid with hope as it slid free of its holster, but unfortunately the second he held it, his hunched position caused a recovering muscle to twitch painfully and his sudden shift woke the healer.

For a second the man stared with wide-eyed panic at finding Sirius so close, before diving forward and knocking him to the ground. Sirius was feeling a whole lot better, but wasn't fully recovered, nor did he have use of his wand arm and so easily lost his balance before being pinned down, the healer putting most of his weight on the arm holding the wand, which made it embarrassingly easy to retrieve.

Eric, the healer, quickly backed away from Black, but kept his wand raised in case of any further attacks. He was furious that the man he had been treating for over a day now would try to take his wand and then leave him to suffer his Lord's wrath. He flinched at the thought – if he hadn't woken when he did… But still, he couldn't bring himself to hate him. As a healer it was always difficult for him to treat people in Black's position, knowing that he was only making the man better so that he could be tortured again; so that his torment would last longer. He pitied these people, but also knew that if he was selective about who he treated for his Lord, it would be him in that position.

Sirius thought about his options as he lay back; maybe he could take the man's legs from under him fast enough to… that thought, and all others flew abruptly from his mind when a familiar darkness swept through the room. He hastily scrambled to his feet and turned to face the Dark Lord.

Voldemort took a second to assess the situation before allowing a small smirk to play across his lips.

"How did he get to you?" He asked Eric, who had immediately put away his wand and turned to him with bowed head when he entered the room.

"I…" Eric faltered, cringing at his own foolishness. "I fell asleep, My Lord. I apologise." His head remained low as he waited for judgement. Voldemort was actually glad to see Black in such fighting spirits. He'd rather let his anger get the best of him last time, but was glad to see the man was able to endure such horrific treatment – it would surely be useful to keep in mind in the future. However he also threw that no man could endure that kind of torture if sustained; everyone broke eventually, so he would have to take a lighter approach for now, because if Black was to be of any use at all to Harry, he would need his sanity relatively intact. Before he'd let him anywhere near her though, Black had to learn his place and the hopelessness of his situation so that Voldemort could keep treacherous I'm-going-to-steal-Harry-away ideas to a minimum, never mind all the poisonous Light sentiments he would want to spew. So far she'd only received his own ideas and opinions of the world, but she'd have to be introduced to other viewpoints sooner or later and he'd be there to control and mitigate those views, otherwise she would eventually come across them on her own and by that time the challenge to everything she thought she knew about the world might be too great for her to handle. He'd learnt a lot about adult psychology by taking pleasure in breaking people's minds and by breaking down some of his lower servants' until they were emotionally and psychologically unequipped to disobey. It was odd to be using that knowledge to prevent such an outcome. And on two supposed enemies at that!

"Update!" He demanded, ignoring the man's slip up.

Eric was very much relieved to be moving on to something he was far more comfortable with.

"His recovery is going as expected and I would hope to see him fully healed in about a week." He paused, "However, I was unable to salvage the bones in his right forearm and had to extract them, but by your will can assist him in growing new ones."

"Very well, you may do so later. Good work." It was truly amazing what modern magical medicine was capable of.

Eric stood proud at the praise from his master. "It is an honour and privilege to serve, My Lord." Voldemort nodded in agreement, before waving a hand to dismiss the healer and turned his attention to Black.

Sirius stood quietly, on guard for any move from the other wizard, but all the while telling himself he had to be smarter. He also had to viciously shove down the fear he felt being defenceless in the same room as the man who had so brutally tortured him, telling himself that he was far from being broken.

"I see you're feeling better."

"No thanks to you!" Sirius responded immediately, glad to find no tremor in his voice, though Voldemort could clearly see the fear in his eyes, however much he tried to hide it. Yes, he feared him greatly, and it was such a delicious thing; to be feared so by a man as strong as Black.

"You made me angry." Voldemort said arrogantly, as though that made his actions justifiable somehow. "And it is thanks to me: I allowed you to be healed."

"Yeh, I'm grateful." Sirius scoffed. He was grateful to be healed, but not grateful to this monster.

"Good." The Dark Lord pointed to the floor at his feet. "Then come here, and thank me for such an undeserved mercy." He ordered.

"That's never going to happen." Sirius' voice was quiet, but sure. It was humiliating enough to be reduced to screaming and crying in front of his enemy. There was no way he would ever bow down.

"Never say never." Voldemort said with a smile that twisted Sirius' stomach into a sickening knot. "I've already told you that I'd be much more amenable to answering your questions if you showed a little respect. You must be curious about why I didn't leave you to rot in Azkaban; why I'm putting so much time and energy into you. You have only one purpose in life, Black, one thing that's saving you from a fate more unspeakable than anything you could possibly imagine, and it's the one thing that hasn't even occurred to you yet. Are you not curious to find out what that is?"

"The price is too high." Sirius insisted, though he was of course deadly curious.

"The price is negligible. Surely you know there is a difference between bowing before your Lord, and bowing before your captor? Those that choose to bow down do so with straight backs and with pride; it is only those who are forced to bow down that are truly robbed of their pride by doing so."

Sirius shook his head. "You are not my lord." His muscles clenched tightly as Voldemort drew his wand.

"Then I am your captor." He aimed his wand at Black's good arm. "Now then, tell me when it hurts."

 **Poor Sirius. I'm a terrible person.** **I'm not going to break SB, but don't want to just dismiss the effect of torture either, or have him semi-compliant overnight.** **xx**


	17. Building a Life

Sirius stood quietly as Voldemort circled him, taking his time in assessing his recovery, which Sirius believed was done for the sole purpose of unnerving him.

He didn't know how long it had been since the Dark Lord started to hurt him regularly – his sense of time had blurred into looping memories: talking to Voldemort, being punished by Voldemort, being healed, and passing out and waking up at random points in between. Things had never been anywhere near as bad as that first time, but in many ways it was still pretty bad. The man was cold and clinical as he methodically broke him down each time. It was enough to make Sirius come to the conclusion that bowing down would be the smart thing to do. He couldn't keep going on like this, and why should he? He thought. He gained nothing from letting himself be tortured, only agony. Let Voldemort think he'd won, let him think whatever he wanted to think. Sirius would do what the man wanted, tell him what he wanted to hear and bide his time. Surely if the man thought he was broken he'd have an advantage when he made his move.

"Are you feeling well?"

"Yes." Sirius answered cautiously. He knew where this was going – it was part of their ritual.

Voldemort came to a stop no more than a foot in front of Black.

"Kneel!" The word was hard and cold and there was no doubt that this was someone giving an order to his inferior.

Clenching his jaw to the point of pain, Sirius slowly lowered himself to the ground, making sure to keep his back straight so his action wouldn't be misinterpreted as cowering. Voldemort enjoyed making him cower, and Sirius wouldn't give him the satisfaction of doing so when not under duress. Torture robbed far more of one's pride than simply bowing down ever could, he thought.

Tom smirked, basking in the pleasure of victory, of seeing this man willingly kneel before him. Oh, he knew Black wasn't bowing out of respect or subservience, not yet, but this was indeed a triumph. The man no doubt thought he was being smart – obeying for the sake of self-preservation or manipulation, but the fact was that just five short days ago Sirius Black would have never placed himself at his enemy's feet for any reason. In fact he'd clearly demonstrated he would rather die or suffer excruciating pain than do such a thing, and Voldemort knew how essential this first step was. Once you'd crossed a line once, it became increasingly easy to do so each time the act was repeated, until eventually it was normal.

Black might not realise it, but the Dark Lord had in fact won his respect: a respect for his power, and his power over him, and that he was utterly helpless against it. Now that that base was established, he could move on to the seduction stage, where he would demonstrate what a blessing and privilege it would be to have a Lord. He hadn't had to use these types of recruitment techniques for decades, not that he was recruiting Black for his forces, though perhaps in the future such a thing might be worth considering. Nowadays people were easily drawn to his power, and obeyed through a mix of fear and respect.

He would start to offer Black (the illusion of), more freedoms, more choice. Perhaps he would even allow the man a wand in the training room, so he could start feeling more powerful and confident again, though of course it would be made abundantly clear that this renewed pride was a gift from his Lord, who could take it away again in less than a second. All of this would be done alongside continuing punishment and humiliation for the push-backs he knew were coming. The push-backs were important, because every time his attempts to stand up for himself were defeated and he was either forced or chose to fall back in line, Black would lose a little more hope, and gain a little more resigned acceptance.

That was all for later though. Right now there was one more thing he wanted from Black.

Sirius felt the silence stretch on, like a band pulled taut in his gut. He knew what Voldemort wanted, but was having trouble unlocking his jaw. He also knew his captor wouldn't wait forever and finally forced himself to speak, before he was a victim of the man's impatience.

"Thank you." His voice was clear but a little higher pitched than usual, as though even his vocal cords were working against him. He heard Voldemort sigh.

"Don't make this difficult, Black." Sirius flinched at the dark tone, his body and mind having come to associate it with pain. He'd decided on this course of action, he reminded himself, trying not to let his repugnance show in his speech.

"Thank you, My Lord." Voldemort grinned down at him devilishly.

"For what?" He was enjoying this far more than he thought he would. He saw Black's fist clenching tightly.

"For allowing me to be healed."

"And?" He didn't really have anything else in mind, but it would be useful to make Black think of all the things for which he should be thankful to his Lord.

"And…" Sirius paused, his throat drying up and his mind racing for a response. He had no idea what Voldemort wanted to hear, so he kept it basic. "For taking me from Azkaban." He wouldn't say 'rescuing'. There was silence, so he tried again. "And for… providing so much… during my stay here..." He felt sick.

* * *

"Henrietta, don't go out so far!" Narcissa called from her spot on the beach, where she was lounging with several friends: Mrs Nott, Crabbe, Montague and Parkinson. Her friends had noticed she'd been a little more on edge than usual on this week away at a magically hidden beach on the Dorset sandbanks.

Narcissa was actually getting more comfortable having Harriet around, and the girl had even stopped moaning about her 'constant hovering'. Harry had been in their care for over a month now and she was immensely relieved that the girl wasn't much trouble at all. It had taken time before Draco would go near Harry, to even allow his arm to brush past hers, but after he was sure the world wouldn't come crashing down if they fought with toy swords or played tag and the like, he quickly bounced back to enjoying having a friend around. The only long term change was that he gave her much less hassle and let her get away with much more than any of his other friends. He understood he couldn't afford to provoke her.

Narcissa was proud of her little boy, and wished adults had a child's resilience. But still, it was getting easier and easier to care for Harriet and now it was only at times when there was foreseeable danger that she became anxious, such as when Draco taught her to fly on a broom, and she'd stood watching the children with wand raised and ready to be used at a moment's notice, or now, when she was swimming in the sea. It was also a little nerve wracking when other children were about, and though Lucius assured her that the Dark Lord was happy for her to meet new children, she couldn't help but worry that they didn't know Harry was under Voldemort's protection, so felt she had to watch them constantly, just in case.

"Henrietta! I said you're not to go out so far!" She called again after being ignored.

"It's fine." The girl finally called back, her voice just about reaching the mothers.

"No, it isn't! I want you to swim closer to the shore!" She was ignored again this time. "Come here!"

"It's fine!" Harry repeated. "I'm a good swimmer!" Narcissa let out a sigh and stood.

"Henrietta! Come here this instant!" She was relieved to see the girl listened this time and swam to the shore before walking over grouchily. She wrapped a towel around Harry and sat her down. "Harri-i." She just caught her slip. Having multiple names was a nuisance. "Harry, it's dangerous to swim so far out. What if something happened and I couldn't get to you…" She was cut off.

"Nothing's going to happen. I can swim!" Harry insisted.

"You don't know that. Anything could happen in the water. You could get tired or get cramp or get stuck in a strong current or tide." Harry rolled her eyes – the woman was being dramatic. With a frown the mother continued. "You can either swim closer to shore or not swim at all!"

Harry huffed and crossed her arms. "Fine. Theo, are you coming?" She asked the pale boy, who had chosen to read instead of enjoying the beach. He politely declined.

After the child left to go build a sandfort with the others, Narcissa retook her seat and ordered a drink. It could be worse, she told herself, if Harry had turned out to be like Draco she'd be doomed.

"So how long is she staying with you?" Mrs Parkinson asked as she watched Harry and her daughter trying to find a stick worthy of being a flag pole.

"Oh, for the foreseeable future. Her father is having a little trouble, but it's not something we talk about." The next hour passed with her avoiding attempts to dig for more information.

* * *

Voldemort walked onto the patio area where Black was sitting, simply enjoying the evening. He'd made it impossible for Black to leave the grounds without his consent, though naturally the man had tried to do so time and again. On the whole, this last month had been enjoyable. Black had indeed challenged his authority, and a couple of times it felt like they were back to square one, but it was obvious he was getting used to life here. He'd even struck up conversations with his other followers a couple of times, which was good because it reinforced his authority. He'd told the others that he didn't want Black harmed, and with the exception of Bella they were happy to trust their Lord knew what he was doing. Bella had taken a little more persuading, and he tried to only give Black access to the whole mansion when she was out, otherwise they bickered like children, and then argued like savages and before you knew it, his little warrior had drawn her wand and Black couldn't even defend himself, and so he of course had to punish Bella.

Sirius stood when he noticed Voldemort and turned to him.

"Can I ask you a question?" He said.

"I don't know. Can you?" Voldemort's brow was raised in mock curiosity, which grated on Sirius, but he didn't react, other than to give in to what he wanted. He dropped to his knees, not thinking about the action at all, though he probably would later.

"May I ask you a question, My Lord?" Again, those awful words came out almost naturally, but later tonight, when he thought back to the war and those he'd lost, it would start to eat him up all over again.

"You may."

"What do you want from me?" He asked the floor, not wanting to see the satisfaction in those crimson eyes. It was a question he'd asked many times, but as of yet, he hadn't received the answer.

"I'll tell you what; I'll give you a clue." Tom was in a good mood, and Black was ready to be given another incentive to not just obey, but to do so willingly. "Follow me."

They walked through the house quickly, but as they approached the doors to the dungeons, Sirius was hesitant. He'd never been taken down there before, and if the look of maniacal satisfaction found on his cousin's face whenever she came from there was anything to go by, he didn't want to.

Voldemort turned to him and in an instant his hands were bound securely behind his back. He felt that now familiar dread filling him and it must have shown in his eyes, because the other man laughed.

"Don't worry, little dog. Your Lord is kind: I'm saving you from a night of pain." He gave a chilling smile. "I'm predicting a rather violent reaction to your clue." He turned and disappeared down the stairs.

Sirius stood still for a moment. He didn't like where this was going. What would make him mad? Mad enough to attack the Dark Lord?! But he had to know, so he jogged down the stairs and found Voldemort standing in front of a small cell.


	18. Halloween Break

Sirius kept his head straight forward, forcing himself not to look into the cells as he past them, knowing there was nothing he could do for these unfortunate souls and that if he looked the guilt would consume him. He came to a stop beside Voldemort, but kept his eyes averted.

"I wonder if you know this man, Black?" Sirius head shot up at the question, fearing the worst as images of everyone he knew flashed through his mind. He physically gagged at the image that greeted him.

Within the cell was a man suspended half way up the wall. He was on the larger side, but at the same time seemed sallow and terribly unwell – and that was probably the best thing he had going for him. His face was swollen and bloody, with most of the thick tacky blood coming from his mouth. His chest covered in painful looking welts and hideous bruises that were raised and broke the skin as though he'd been beaten with an iron bar. There was barely an inch of skin that wasn't marred somehow on his arms – jagged cuts and burns littered them in an almost symmetrical pattern that demonstrated they hadn't been done in anger, but with cold purpose and precision. His fingers were broken and mangled, sticking out at various angles. A large section of the man's sagging stomach area seemed rotten or diseased, and the part of Sirius brain that had suddenly checked out wondered what sort of scent restricting charm had been placed on the bars of the cell, because he could only smell the slight mustiness common in any basement. The man's legs were strangely untouched, though his left knee was bent at a right angle and the sight alone sent a sympathetic shudder through Sirius and a painful throb to his own knees.

The thing that made him break his silence however were the man's feet, or his right foot to be precise. The skin from the toes to just above the ankle had been flayed, leaving behind a perfect view of muscle and bone.

"That's horrendous." He said quietly, trying to swallow down his rising nausea, disgust and fear. It was crazy, but at that moment Sirius was grateful to the Dark Lord for not doing something similar to him. Black thought he'd suffered the worst Voldemort had to offer, but clearly not. In fact thinking about it the man had done nothing that would maim or permanently injure him.

"Indeed." Voldemort smiled. "It deserves everything it gets." Sirius wanted to object, to explain that he'd meant the treatment was horrendous, not the man, but he guessed Voldemort already knew that. "Well?" His head swam as he tried to grasp what the man wanted. He felt dizzy, but thankfully cottoned on.

"No. I don't know him." He was fairly sure anyway, but wondered whether he'd even be able to recognise his own brother in such a condition.

"Lucky you." Voldemort could see Black was looking a little pale and thought he might choose to leave, so took hold of the back of his neck to guide him to the next cell, in which several children slept huddled together. "You won't know any of these, but they are a part of your clue." Before Black could say anything in protest about children being here, he continued: "Moving on."

The woman in this cell was awake, curled in to herself against the far wall, though when she saw the two men she immediately prostrated herself before them. She was gaunt and dirty, but in surprisingly good condition, just a few bruises here and there. However the look in her eyes when she'd seen the Dark Lord was pure, soul-crushing terror. Maybe she'd seen what became of the other prisoner, or maybe she'd been subjected to the Cruciatus curse. Sirius felt awful at his helplessness. It was true that the curse left no lasting damage if used in moderation, but that one small word caused pain greater and more intense than anything else Voldemort had done to him.

"Come here muggle!" Sirius flinched again at the dark tone, feeling shame at his cowardice; he was relieved it wasn't directed at him.

The woman quickly moved to obey, scampering forward to kneel before the bars and directly in front of Voldemort, who had silently attached a short chain to Sirius' bindings while she complied.

"Look at me!" He demanded. When she did, he moved Sirius in front of him, and took two steps back.

"What about this one? Do you recognise her?"

Sirius _did_ recognise her, but couldn't remember from where. The Dark Lord had called her a muggle, though knowing the man, she could actually be a muggleborn, which would make more sense because Sirius didn't know many muggles at all.

"I'm not sure." He eventually.

"Tell him the name you were given at birth!"

"P-p-petunia E-vans." Recognition hit Sirius like a slap to the face. This was Lily's sister. But why was she here? An old anger rose as he thought about Lily and James – hadn't Voldemort taken enough from them? Why did he need to go after their family too?

Voldemort could sense Black's confusion and hesitance. He smirked.

"It might interest you to know, that until recently this disgusting waste of life was the legal guardian of one Harriet Jayne Potter." His smirk grew as Black spun to face him.

"You bastard!" He shouted, which only served to amuse Voldemort. He tried to charge the powerful wizard, blind with rage and horror of the implications presented to him, but found himself snapped back to the bars of the cell. "You bastard!" He repeated as he pulled desperately against the chain. "What have you done to her?! Where is sh… Wait! You're lying! Dumbledore took Harriet! I know she's safe, so your little mind-fuck won't work." He thought of his goddaughter often, but doubted it was a good subject to bring up to the man she'd defeated. He never worried too much for her though, because he'd heard before being sent to Azkaban that she was in Dumbledore's care: he missed her, but she couldn't be safer.

"Tsk tsk. Such foul language. I thought you knew better than to speak that way to your Lord." Voldemort revelled in the uncertainty on Black's face. The man knew he'd be punished for that later, but also wanted his accusation confirmed. "I can assure you that old Albus hasn't seen dear Harriet since she was a baby. No, the fool left her on Petunia's doorstep in the middle of a November night and hasn't been back since."

"And why the hell would he do that?" Sirius felt uneasy. He expected cleverer lies from the Dark Lord.

"I have a few theories, but can't say for sure." Voldemort replied as though they were just two men having a conversation.

"You're lying!" He stepped back against the bars – an involuntary actions caused by the sight of Voldemort drawing his wand.

"Accuse me of lying again, Black!" He hissed out. "Crucio."

The spell flew past Sirius by a margin he couldn't even see and hit the poor woman behind him. She thrashed, and screamed, and begged. All the while Sirius didn't know what the think. He was shaken by her screams. Voldemort didn't seem to be lying at all, but he was a master at manipulation and deception, wasn't he? Harry was safe. But then why go to all this trouble to make him think otherwise. He wanted to beg the Dark Lord to stop – she'd had enough!

Thankfully the screams did stop, just as abruptly as they'd began, leaving behind only quiet weeping. Sirius decided to heed the warning he'd been given.

"Where is she then?" He growled out. "If you've hurt her…" He stopped when the other man stepped to him. He would have been able to reach him now, but didn't move from his position against the bars.

"Then what?" Voldemort asked as though this was all some joke. Sirius seethed.

"Then I'll kill you." He promised quietly. Voldemort laughed, then placed his hand around the back of his neck again, though this time much more tightly, clearly expecting him to struggle and started marching him back out of the dungeons.

"That's quite enough. I think you need to be reminded how little I care for disrespect." Sirius wanted to beg right away, but he still had his pride so stayed silent as he tried to get free of the man's grip – he knew that begging would come later.

"Don't worry though: If you can be a good dog, I may let you see her." Sirius prayed that it was a bluff – to let him see her would mean Voldemort did indeed have access to her.

* * *

Tom knew the second Harry arrived back from her short holiday and could feel her excitement. He wanted to smile, but instead turned his sharp eyes to Black.

"Kneel!" He command, satisfied when he was obeyed without hesitance. "Now, in less than a minute, Harry Potter is going to come through those doors." Black's face was a peculiar mix of hope and concern. "You are to remain where you are and not make a sound. If you move an inch, or open your mouth to speak, you will be punished severely, and it will be a long time before I feel inclined to allow you to see her again. Understand?"

"Yes, My Lord." Sirius answered. He'd do whatever it took to get to Harry. Never mind that the thought of being 'severely' punished made his blood run cold. He needed to see she was ok. Over the last week he'd asked the Dark Lord repeatedly, and politely, just where she was and what he wanted from her, but was left wondering, only ever being reassured that she was well cared for, which was something he found hard to believe.

The swung open and Harry ran straight at Tom, only just managing to stop herself jumping when she caught sight of the man kneeling a few metres to her right. Tom didn't like her being affectionate when his men were present. She spared the man a curious glance – this was one she hadn't seen before, but was used to their general presence – before excitedly sharing everything she'd done on her last day at the beach.

Sirius felt frozen. He hadn't seen her for years, but he knew right away that this little girl was indeed his goddaughter. He desperately wanted to go to her, to pull her into a tight hug, but he stayed in place, knowing that he wouldn't get anywhere near her, and then he'd have ruined his chance to see her again for who knows how long. What froze him though was shock. Harriet was clearly very comfortable around Voldemort, and although he seemed largely impassive, the man made no attempt to intimidate her – he just let her keep prattling on! At one point she even stopped, seemingly randomly, to glare at the man! It was unnerving.

"…and then Pansy pushed Draco in the pool and he splashed her in revenge, which made her cry because she was wearing her favourite dress and…"

"Ok, Harry," Tom interrupted as he reached the end of his quota for useless Harry-talk. "I'm glad you had a good time." Harry scowled at being shut down, but quickly picked up another subject.

"Narcissa's being a pain again."

"So you've said." He said dryly. "Every day this week in fact." She pouted this time.

"But she is! She wouldn't let me swim from the shore the whole week!" She whined. "And she _knew_ I wasn't going to drown!" Tom laughed. Sirius wondered if he'd gone mad after all. Voldemort didn't laugh – not like that anyway.

"No, you're quite right." He said, clearly amused. "Go fetch her immediately and I'll punish her for not allowing you to recklessly put yourself in danger."

If Sirius didn't know better, he would have sworn that Harry Potter just huffed in exasperation at Lord Voldemort. But he did know better: people didn't huff at the Dark Lord, just like they didn't sigh, or glare, or scoff, or scowl, or roll their eyes or tell him he was silly… wait, what?

"Stop being silly! I'm just moaning."

"Brat." Voldemort was still…smiling? After being called silly? Sirius had definitely gone mad, he decided – he was in a dark room somewhere under the torture curse… "Go find Bella or Ted; I'm sure they'll let you talk their ears off." Nott would want to know all about his son, and Bella because she was still trying to figure out what was so special about Harry, and she had come to enjoy having a little girl around, to teach and dress up, not that she'd admitted to it of course. "I'll come to you when I'm finished here."

"Fine. Get back to whatever it is Dark Lords do." Harry made her way to the door before being hit by a tiny stinging hex. She turned back with mock offence, before sticking her tongue out and then closing the door behind her before Tom could retaliate.

Tom smiled at the door for a second before letting his demeanour darken as he turned to Black. Normally he would direct her to speak using their link when others were around, and didn't show quite as much emotion, but he made an exception for Black's sake. It was worth it; the look on his face was priceless.

* * *

 **I'm sorry; this whole Black thing has taken much, much more time than I planned. I think maybe I should have written it as a side story instead! They'll be meeting in the next chapter though and there** _ **will**_ **be a time-skip soon after. If I can use a little self-control lol.**

 **Thank you as always for the wonderful reviews, and just for reading.**

 **xx**


	19. Awkward Comprehension

"Hi Harry."

Harry thought she could see the affection and sincerity in the man's eyes as soon as he spoke. It was a little overwhelming, because nobody had ever looked at her that way – as though they truly cared for her. She knew that Tom loved her of course, but she also knew that he would probably never let it show. This man though, this stranger, he wasn't hiding anything.

"Erm, hi." She returned awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Tom was in the room with them, standing further back against the wall beside the door. She and Tom had had many conversations about Sirius Black, and he'd explained everything, from his friendship with her father to him being Harry's godfather to his wrongful imprisonment.

What Tom hadn't shared was his motivation for rescuing Black from Azkaban: At first it had merely been a whim. Harry's idea of taking a ship had supplied him with enough souls to free several more prisoners than planned, and so when he realised Black was there he'd just taken him, thinking maybe Harry would like to meet him. However after getting him home, he realised that maybe it was that newer, _useless_ , part of his brain working again. He knew he could never return what he'd taken from Harry, and still would never regret his actions, but Black had given him an opportunity to give something back; someone that could love her the way she yearned to be loved; to love her like a father, or at least a godfather; the way her aunt's family should have loved her. Tom couldn't give her that.

Sirius was also unsure of himself and what he should do here. For almost three months, he'd been as good a servant to his new master as he was capable of being in the hopes of getting the access to his goddaughter that Voldemort had promised. But now that she was actually here, he didn't know what to do.

"You're beautiful." He said dumbly. He glanced across to Voldemort - it didn't help that he was in the room and likely ready to use whatever Sirius did later to mock or torment him. "I can hardly believe you've grown so much from the child I knew… I see so much of your father in you, though you have your mother's eyes."

That was enough for Harry to move closer, wanting to know more about this man and the life he'd had with her parents. He glanced back to Tom again, and she sighed, before she also turned to him.

" _You're making him uncomfortable." She accused._

" _So?" He returned dismissively._

" _So you said he was here for me. I can hardly get to know him if he's too afraid to speak."_ She was getting wiser to how things worked when Tom was around.

His eyes narrowed in contemplation before he agreed. _"Very well, but Harry, I will be listening."_ He warned and then swept from the room, much to the confusion of Sirius, though he wasn't going to question it; he was too relieved to be alone finally with Harriet.

As soon as the door closed, Sirius swept in for a bear-hug. For a few moments Harry stood frozen. She'd didn't think she'd ever been, well, just hugged before, at least not that she could remember, and definitely not by a stranger. Eventually though she tentatively raised her arms and hugged back. There was something pleasantly familiar about this man.

"Sorry." Sirius said when he finally backed off. "It's just that for so long I thought I'd never see you again." He scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed.

Tom watched on as they sat next to each other in silence for a minute or so, his thoughts bouncing between amusement and trepidation.

"So you've been staying with the Malfoys?" She only nodded, not her usual chatty self at all. "I was surprised – I thought you were with Dumbledore." Harry scowled this time. "You know," He started, trying to be tactful, even though that wasn't his strongest trait. "He took you away to keep you safe from the Dark Lord... after what happened to James and Lily, but it seems you are happy and safe with him?" Tom wanted to intervene already. He hadn't expected Black to go for this subject right away, not without first building a relationship and trust with Harry. Black was pathetic – wearing his heart on his sleeve like this.

" _The Dark Lord_ saved me from Albus Dumbledore and those awful muggles!" Harry was instantly on the defensive, while Sirius' heart sank at hearing her speak that way – it seemed true that Voldemort really had gotten to the girl, and wondered if she was lost to the Dark.

"Do you know what He did to those muggles -to your family?" Her scowl deepened as she turned away.

"I don't care!" She stated resolutely.

"But he…"

"I don't care!" Harry repeated with more force, forcing herself to look back into her godfather's eyes. "They aren't my family… you have no idea what it was like living with them… They deserve it! I, I don't think I'd have survived without Him." Sirius was starting to understand that things were just as hopeless as Voldemort had been telling him.

"But your parents?" He challenged softly, relieved to see the shaky breath she took after hearing him.

"They fought on the wrong side in a war and were killed. It happens all the time." There was pain in her eyes – it was proof that Voldemort hadn't made her a monster. "I'm sure I'm not the only orphan of war to wish it didn't, but it does." She finished quietly.

Harry had never been so forthright in her opinions of the Potters' deaths. Up until the moment she spoke, she didn't even realise she'd reached any conclusions on the subject, so maybe her words were more about defending Tom than anything else, but they felt right. She still wished she could somehow change things, to go back in time so that he didn't kill her parents, but as things stood, she didn't hold Tom directly responsible in the way this man seemed to. She could see them as soldiers in a war who put themselves in harm's way for what they believed in, personal and deeply missed soldiers, but soldiers none the less, and though Tom might have pulled the trigger, they were simply victims of war. In fact the more she thought about it, the more she began to resent the Potters over Tom.

"Good parents would have stayed alive to take care of their baby…" She had to stop to swallow down the sudden lump in her throat and try to blink back the tears threatening to fall.

Sirius could see her turmoil and spoke again in the same soft voice.

"It's because they loved you that they fought. They wanted to make sure the world they would one day leave you was a safe, peaceful place. They wanted that for you, and all the others that would suffer if they did nothing." The tears broke free and rolled down her cheeks.

"Why…" She sniffled and in another part of the mansion Tom stood from his desk. "Why wasn't I enough?" Harry whispered, her voice trembling with every word. "Why couldn't they just…" She sobbed. Sirius regretted this whole conversation. He thought he could save her from the Dark indoctrination by focusing on her family, but he was a fool. How on earth could you possibly explain the 'greater good' to an eight year old orphan?

"They loved you more than anything, I promise. They joined to fight before you were born and then it was too late because a proph…" His words were cut short as the door slammed open, though he doubted Harry was hearing him anyway.

Sirius let his head fall into his hands when Harriet Potter ran into the arms of Lord Voldemort and the pair quickly left without a word. Voldemort had warned him not to upset Harry, and he had no intention of doing so. In fact he didn't even plan on mentioning her parents' deaths right away, but after hearing the way she spoke of muggles and the Light in general he just couldn't stop himself. He wished the Dark Lord had stayed in the room – at least then he never would have dared broach the topic in the first place.

And on top of all this, seeing Harry again had been the last nail in the coffin of his desire to fight. His resolution was already breaking, because he no longer thought he had any chance of succeeding and was almost paralysed with fear of the repercussions if he tried. Even so, up until now, he'd been willing to leave Harry here (where she did at least appear to be happy and healthy enough), and run to raise the alarm the first chance he got. But now he couldn't. Her words were childish and selfish, but they resonated with him: she'd already had to sacrifice everything for the greater good, and he didn't think she should have to do so again. Voldemort told Black that he was only allowing him his life because Harry had need of him, and though his head was always filled with confusion when he considered the closeness that was so obvious between the two supposed enemies, his heart betrayed him and he was ashamed that the man he considered to be the most evil man alive was willing to compromise and do more for Harriet than Sirius ever had. No, enough was enough, he decided. He would never help Voldemort burn the world, but he would sit back and watch, however painful it was to him personally, as long as he was able to protect the child he had sworn to protect.

* * *

It had taken a month for Harry to admit that she wanted to see Sirius again. It came after assurances from Tom that although the man was misguided, he did care for her. Also, when she heard of how angry the Lestranges had been with him for upsetting her, and that Tom had allowed them to administer his punishment, she was concerned enough about his wellbeing to seek him out.

Their second meeting had gone much more smoothly, and since then he only mentioned the Potters when telling her about them, and so they were able to form a close bond as they spent more and more time together.

As the months past she was happy to have someone like Sirius around. He was a haunted man, but he smothered her with affection. Tom was away more and more, often out of the country and though he spoke to her every day, it was nice having someone there physically.

Tom had brought several of his other Death Eaters back, those he trusted and could move without disguise outside of his headquarters. At Harry's insistence, he'd even allowed Theo to be brought into the loop. She's argued that if Draco, who was always unseemly boastful could keep the secret, then so could Theodore Nott. It was nice to see how the formerly quiet boy had come out of his shell after being reacquainted with his father.

Harry was able to form closer friendships with many of the children she was introduced to and even had the occasional sleep over with the girls in their circle. She spent so much time with Draco that they became like brother and sister, and though they argued every now and then, Draco was careful not to let things go too far and often conceded battles he wouldn't dream of conceding to his other friends. It was lucky that Draco was such an influential member of their group, because the others took their cues on how to treat his 'cousin' from him, and so apart from the minor blip here and there, they all started to defer to Harriet without being consciously aware of doing so.

Narcissa and Lucius had absorbed her into their little family. They were always careful with her, but that had become second nature instead of a constant effort. They had general authority over Harry's day to day activities, but were not permitted to prevent her from visiting Bleeding Wolf Lane whenever she liked, and had to ask the Dark Lord about anything more substantial, such as holidays and getting her eyes fixed. They'd suffered terribly on the few occasions they'd messed up, and their baby boy had had to grow up quicker than he should have, as he was most often with Harry and therefore most likely to be in the firing line if something went wrong. However Voldemort made clear how much he valued their service and was incredibly generous and rather lenient with the Malfoys regarding everything but Harry – there was never any forgiveness when it came to her… they'd already lost two governesses to his wrath.

All in all, Harry thought life was perfect. She never forgot about the poor neglected girl under the stairs, but every day she became more distant from the confident, happy girl she was now.

* * *

 **Sorry for the lack of updates. I've been out of the country visiting my brother and can't write for toffee when I'm not at home lol.**

 **I finally got to the time skip! The next chapter will start aged 10.**


	20. Building a Home 2

Harry's portkey always deposited her in her own bedroom at Tom's. She was well used to the uncomfortable method of travel by now, and only paused for a second before dashing out of the door and down the hallway. She was on her way to her best friend's office, but stopped and backtracked after hearing her godfather's bark of laughter coming from a private lounge on that floor.

Sirius looked up from his cards when the door swung open and smiled as he stood to give Harry a hug. He was losing and was pretty sure Rod was cheating anyway. The other occupants of the room also stood to greet the young girl, who'd been in France with her surrogate family for the past two weeks.

"I missed you…" Harry's breath left her as she was yanked away from the man and into a long bone-crushing hug. "…air… can't…"

Bella quickly released the girl, but stayed no more than a step away; watching as she drew in much needed breath. Finally, Harry smiled up at her.

"I missed you too, aunty Bella." The woman was always a bit intense, and even though she'd suffered for it on many occasions, she still sometimes forgot that Harry was indeed very breakable. Harriet glanced down to the woman's swollen belly. "How's the baby?" She asked, worrying if the poor little thing would survive having Bellatrix Lestrange for a mum.

"It's fine." She replied, resting a hand on the baby bump as her husband came to stand beside her. When she'd first discovered she was pregnant, Bella had been terrified, not to mention furious with Rod, even though on this occasion it had been her own negligence that allowed the conception. She had been terrified of what her Lord would say when he found out, and she was right to be.

Tom was all for expanding the magical population, especially with families as pure as Bella's, and normally it would be no business of his, but Bella wasn't just any women, she was one of his favourite servants – one of the best, the most capable. He didn't want her being taken out of commission for any length of time, and worried that having a child would soften his ruthless warrior. As he'd looked down on her pathetically sobbing apologetically at his feet after sharing her news, knowing her fate was in his hands, he considered simply destroying the embryo within her and saving himself any trouble. It would be the best course of action – for him anyway. There was one problem with that though: his never-ending weakness, Harriet. She would be appalled if she ever found out, and she would, he knew, because life was funny like that. He was tempted to destroy the thing just to prove to himself that she had no power over him, but quickly dismissed that thought because he wasn't so delusional, and decided that dealing with Harry's reaction would cause him much more trouble than Bella or her child ever could.

He told Bella he was allowing the pregnancy as reward for her unwavering loyalty.

"It's fine." She repeated, mostly to reassure herself as she wrapped her arms around her belly, remembering the cold contemplative look in her Lord's eyes that day with a shudder. She was grateful.

After a brief catch-up, they watched as Harry left to go find the Dark Lord. A number of his inner circle – only his most trusted – had been told of 'Henrietta's' true identity once the child started to spend time with Black. That had been difficult to accept, especially as they were none the wiser to how they had met or what he had done to the revered Girl-Who-Lived to make he so… well, perhaps cooperative wasn't quite the right word…

Sirius returned to his game with Rod while Bella went back to whatever it was Bella did when not causing suffering and destruction – it looked like she was drawing something in the air with her wand – probably was, he decided.

It had taken a lot for him to befriend the Death Eaters in general, but the Lestranges were the most difficult. He had been good friends with the Longbottoms, and it enraged him when Bella would jokingly reminisce about the awful things she had done to drive them to madness. Sirius had taken out a few of their friends too, but never done anything so dreadful. They only managed to move past it when the Dark Lord literally locked them in a room together, without wands, and said they weren't coming out until they were dead or until they learned to behave. It had taken four days before Bella finally agreed not to tease about, or even mention, the Longbottoms again in his presence.

He'd had to befriend the dark wizards he lived with or he'd have gone mad from isolation. Life was actually pretty good here, and once he'd learned the rules, and accepted them, he found a life that, while far from perfect, was the most carefree he'd ever had. The Death Eaters were good enough company. He used to imagine they sat around all day discussing ways to rid the world of muggles and 'dirty' blood of all kinds, and congratulating themselves for having been lucky enough to be born into wealthy and/or pure families. That wasn't the case. The subject came up of course, but for the most part they were like any other bunch of men – men who were violent convicts – but still. He didn't have to worry about the war anymore, because he'd come to accept that it was lost. It was a relief almost. He didn't have to wonder about Harriet because he saw her all the time and knew she couldn't have a better life. The grounds of the mansion were extensive and even went a little way into the woods, so he could run freely in his animagus form when he needed to clear his head. It wasn't true freedom, but it was enough. He could even leave now, with Voldemort's permission and with either a bodyguard of his men, but usually with the man himself to make sure he didn't do something stupid. He wouldn't, but couldn't blame Him for taking the precaution.

Only those who knew of Harry's true identity were allowed on this floor of the mansion, so as she approached the stairs she took hold of a charm and whispered 'Hide' in Parseltongue to activate her glamour.

Harry had two pieces of jewellery that she always wore – always wore because they could not be removed by anyone but Tom. She had picked out the necklace herself: a small simple emerald the shape of a droplet on a delicate silver chain. Tom had commented that he must have passed his tastes onto her, although he would have preferred something grander. The necklace was her portkey. On her wrist was a silver charm bracelet that had charms for protection, location monitoring and the like, and of course her glamour.

She opened Tom's door without a care and stepped inside, only to let out a deep, pained groan. She pressed her palm over the scar on her forehead, and had to brace herself against the door, but glared as best she could through the pain.

Tom let up, always less enthusiastic about punishing Harry when he could actually see her suffering. Once she'd straightened back into her confident, dignified pose, she walked over to him, though she still rubbed her head absently.

"What was that for?" She asked hotly, which caused him to raise an eyebrow in disbelief. He sighed, and then proceeded to pin her in place with a glare of his own. She didn't flinch.

" _Harriet, how many times do I have to tell you not to interrupt?"_

It was only then she took time to survey the room. There were three chairs, in which sat two man who stared at the floor as though it was the most fascinating thing in the world. The former occupant of the third chair lay weak and trembling on the ground, but also get his eyes averted. They all knew better than to draw unnecessary attention to themselves when the Dark Lord was angry with Harry, and he'd been in a foul mood to begin with after learning of Mulciber's mistake – a mistake that almost exposed Voldemort's return.

" _You knew I was returning today!"_ She protested, dismissing the presence of the Death Eaters, and sounding whiny even in her own ears.

" _Oh yes,"_ Tom mocked nastily. _"And I suppose I ought to have cancelled everything in order to wait around all day for your return."_ She rolled her eyes.

" _I've been gone for two weeks! It wouldn't have killed you to say 'hello', you know. They'd have waited for you."_ She told him with a vague wave of her hand at the men. She didn't enjoy seeing people in pain at all, especially when it was people she knew, but had gotten so used to it that it barely registered. Well, people in the after effects of pain anyway. Watching someone actually being punished was still difficult for her, but she believed that Tom had the right to deal with his people however he saw fit, so as long as she was near to him when it happened, it didn't haunt her too much. Tom was always her anchor and her place of safety, even if he was the one causing her discomfort – especially when he was the one causing her discomfort, because however awful the things he did were, he still managed to sooth or comfort her.

" _Hello."_ He replied dryly. He didn't at all like that mischievous look in her eye as she glanced back to his men. A dark grin spread across her lips – a grin that he knew meant trouble.

" _You have five seconds to get rid of them before I hug you."_ When he frowned at her, the grin vanished, only to be replaced by a saccharin smile.

" _Harriet."_ He warned, but she pretended not to notice.

 _"How embarrassing would that be?"_ She teased.

 _"Harriet!"_

 _"One, Two..."_ She started counting.

"Harriet." He warned again - this time out loud and a note lower, and was satisfied when the smile fell immediately at his tone. He tried to squash his regret at seeing her deflate, but they really had been over this a million times.

Tom had created a monster, he thought.

She'd been here for almost two and a half years, and though she never caused any serious trouble for him, she was always pushing him harder and further. Usually, pushing the powerful Lord Voldemort was for suicidal fools, but it didn't escape his notice that she got away with more and more as the seasons passed. Thankfully she always deferred to him when he put his foot down, but this only left him at a loss as to why he didn't do so more often. His best explanation was that he'd taught her too well: she was smart; she never did anything that could damage him; and even though he'd never once had to instruct her not to do so, she never called him Tom or showed such blatantly challenging behaviour out loud in front of anyone.

It irked him that even back when she was eight, she'd known him so well. That he _trusted_ her because of her cleverness was best left ignored.

But with all her discretion, he never _needed_ to be any stricter with her, and if it wasn't necessary to, he had no _desire_ to confine her in any way. He still expected her obedience and respect for his power over her, but never once felt the need to subjugate her the way he did with every other sentient creature on Earth. The thought of making her bow down was repugnant.

He sighed again at her disappointed, chastened pout. She had gotten much better at guarding her mind, so he could no longer feel her emotions unless he engaged their link, but really! Who needed access to someone's mind when presented with a face like that!

He was almost grateful to his familiar when she came in through the door Harry had left open and bumped the girl's hip in greeting. Harry immediately reached down and started petting the oversized snake.

"*At least Nagini loves me.*" She hissed pointedly. Now it was Tom's turn to roll his eyes.

" _Listen, I'll find you once I'm finished here."_ She just nodded, still looking down to the snake, so he continued with a nasty smirk. _"Or if you like you can sit in while I finish up here?"_ He gestured down to Mulciber with his wand.

Face screwed up in displeasure, she turned to the door. "*Come on, Nagini, let's go back to the others.*" And with that the two left, never seeing the dark, but indiscernible look that graced his face because of her words.

Suddenly irritated once more, he turned back to Mulciber.

 **I'm away next week and will unlikely be able to update, so wanted to throw out a quick chapter before I leave.**

 **I know Harry will be off to school soon, but just wanted to warn that the Hogwarts years won't be as canon for obvious reasons, though I will be using several events thoughout the story. :)**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing! xx**


	21. Spoiled

"With the sash or without?"

Harry, Daphne and Pansy were in Pansy's bedroom, preparing for the Parkinson Heiress' eleventh birthday party in the way only privileged young girls can. Harry wasn't in to it, but always enjoyed just hanging with the girls. The boys, however polished and dignified they appeared to the outside world, were just as loud and obnoxious as any young boys, so it was always a nice break to be in Pansy's fairy tale bedroom while critiquing dresses that probably cost more than most people made in six months.

Pansy stood on a podium with three mirrors – something Harry had accepted was a norm for the people she called friends nowadays, though she had put her foot down and refused Narcissa's attempt to get something similar for her own bedroom, because one full length mirror was all that Harry needed seeing as she barely spared it a second glance anyway. It was a constant source of frustration for Narcissa.

All her friends' houses were beautiful, inside and out, but the days had long passed when she would stare open mouthed as she walked through them. Tom had a high standard for who he allowed Harry to befriend, and she was old enough now to know that's what he was doing, she just didn't mind. She'd hated other children before being introduced to these, though the only ones she'd known before were the awful muggle type, so maybe that was her problem.

Harry looked up from the photo album, she was flicking through, an album filled with the laughing and smiling faces of Harry and her friends, and across to Pansy and the seamstress that fluttered around her, making adjustments and professionally ignoring the snappy and abusive comments sent her way for doing nothing more than her job.

"Definitely without." Harry said, thinking the dress was excessive enough already.

Pansy angled her body to get a better look. "Really? I think it adds definition."

"Hmm, it's more flattering that way." Daphne agreed.

"Without." Harry insisted before turning back to the photos. Narcissa said Harry's taste was understated, but she preferred to think of it as graceful. No matter how much she assimilated into her new life, she didn't think she'd ever understand peoples' need to show off their wealth.

Pansy frowned at her image for a few moments, before sending a disgusted look down to the nameless seamstress. "Well?" She snapped. "Didn't you hear her? Get rid of it!" The poor woman hastened to do so, mentally cursing these spoiled children and the last ten minutes she'd spent meticulously pinning the damn thing in place.

"You haven't told us what you're wearing." Daphne pressed. Harry shrugged sheepishly.

"I haven't bought anything yet." She admitted, which earned her disapproving looks and long suffering sighs from her friends. They were well used to Harry's blasé attitude about fashion, as well as the fact that she would turn up to the party looking better than any of them no matter how late she left preparations – they could only dream of having Lady Malfoy as their personal stylist: the woman was a genius.

"Well, what's Draco wearing?" Pansy's question lacked subtlety and quickly reduced the other girls into fits of laughter at her expense.

"I have no idea." Harry eventually replied, laughing at the glare sent her way in the mirror.

"You're so lucky to get to live with him – how can you be so calm?"

"Why should I care what he wears, besides, we're family, it's not like we're going out or anything." Pansy was a clever, accomplished young woman, but had a weakness for Draco that Harry thought rather sweet. Apparently the two had gotten 'married' in Draco's garden when they were both just five years old, and Pansy had been in love with him ever since. It was just too adorable, especially as Draco was still more interested in quidditch than he was in girls. Poor Pansy.

"Whatever." The girl dismissed, already tired of being laughed at, though she really ought to have been used to it by now. "Aren't you finished yet?" She snapped again at her seamstress.

"Sorry, miss. I'll just be a few more minutes." The girl said as pleasantly as she could, reminding herself that an apprenticeship with the renowned designer Isla Luffman was worth spending a few months doing all the less glamorous jobs, and that she would one day be one of Isla's top designers and have all these wealthy purebloods scrambling for her attention instead of being treated like a house elf.

Pansy went back to ignoring the woman, choosing instead to look back to Harry. "Well, you'll have to get something soon, because I need to know what you'll be wearing, and if we clash I'm disinviting you!"

* * *

"Hey Tom, are you going to Pansy's birthday party?" Tom blinked at her for a second or two.

"Why on earth would I be planning to attend Pansy Parkinson's party?"

"It's not just a children's party this year." Harry tried to reason. "It's a big deal, it's her eleventh!"

"Is it?" He replied, his tone as dry as the desert. "And I care about this why?"

"Because! Because there'll probably be more adults there than children and really important ones too I bet." Tom didn't understand why she was trying to coax him into going to a stupid party. The little monster.

"None more so than will be attending Draco's eleventh, at which I'm sure Lucius will take full advantage of any opportunities presented to him." Harry huffed. "Besides, I'll be out of the country."

"You don't even know when it is." She accused, while Tom just smiled at her scowl. He did that a lot around Harry – smiling. It was one of the countless things about her he chose to compartmentalise. Before befriending Harry he didn't think he'd genuinely smiled since learning about magic for the first time.

"Then I'll be sure to stay away for a long while." He teased, waving his hand to divert the cushion that came speeding towards his face. Before Harry could respond, all the cushions around the sitting room lifted into the air and flew effortlessly at Harry, effectively burying the top half of her body in an instant.

Harry fought her way out, coughing dramatically at non-existent dust.

"Where are you going this time anyway?" She asked crossly, whilst secretly levitating the cushion he'd cast aside behind him, hoping to just get one clean hit in retaliation.

"Australia." The cushion burst into flames and fell quickly to the ground as ash, Tom's smirk the only proof he'd even known the object was there.

Harry forgot all about trying to get him back when she heard his answer. "Australia? Why? That's so far away... It's just an island full of things that want to kill you!" He laughed.

"I'm sure there will be nothing more dangerous than the cushion wielding monster I have to put up with in this country." Her scowl returned with force.

"Have to put up with me; I have to put up with you…" She groused. "You know, if you're so intent on touring the whole world you could take me with you – I want to go!" Tom was often away in exotic places, no doubt having great adventures without her: It wasn't fair!

"To the land of 'things that want to kill you'?" He asked with a sarcastically raised eyebrow. "Besides, I'm going for work, not sightseeing. Were you to accompany me, you, my dear, would see nothing more than the inside of your heavily warded hotel room." Harry rolled her eyes at Tom's overprotective nature. He was the monster, not her!

Harry had accepted that Tom was always super busy, but that didn't mean she liked it. She almost wanted the war to start already: the sooner it started, the sooner it would be over and Tom would have what he wanted… and she would have Tom around more often. She sighed.

"When can I see Sirius?" She asked to change the subject. Sometimes Tom punished her godfather by denying him access to Harry, though she had no idea what Sirius had done wrong this time. It was probably nothing, Harry thought, knowing better than to ask, because that got her nowhere. Tom seemed to be getting less and less tolerant of his mere presence lately – even her simply mentioning the man resulted in a darkening of Tom's continence.

"I've not decided – perhaps when I leave." His eyes narrowed on her. "Why? Would you prefer I leave sooner so your pet can come out to play?" His words had a nasty edge to them that made Harry uncomfortable.

"No." She defended, her face screwed up and confused by his accusatory tone. "Salazar, I was just asking. And don't call him that! He's family, not a pet."

"Yes well, people often claim their pets are like family." Harry's eyes rolled to the ceiling in exasperation. What was his problem anyway?

"Why..." Her gaze flew back to Tom at his dark voice, a voice which sobered her up immediately, because it generally meant she was in trouble.

Tom saw her cautious look and shook his head slightly. She had done nothing wrong, well nothing wrong for Harriet anyway – if anyone else rolled their eyes at him they'd lose them before their next blink. He'd simply been ill of mood lately, but wouldn't take it out on her.

"What are you planning for _your_ birthday?" He tried to lighten the suddenly tense atmosphere, not wanting to leave the country with the two of them quarrelling, and happy when she accepted the change in topic and started going on about a summer barbeque. He didn't often make time to simply sit and do nothing and didn't want to spoil it for no reason.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore felt uneasy. He knew Tom was smart, that he'd want to keep his return quiet for as long as it took to gather his forces and get organised, but it had been years now, and the thought of the powerful wizard moving in the shadows for so long left Albus cold. Merlin only knew what he was up to out there. There hadn't even been any confirmation that he was fully restored, and for a while, though ever cautious, Albus was prepared to go along with the general consensus that there was no imminent threat. Then Bones had died in an almost impossible floo accident. He'd tried not to jump to conclusions, because however astronomically small the odds were that a floo should malfunction as it had, the death of one official didn't equate to war. However when she was replaced by Albert Beets, a man suspected but not proven to have been involved with Tom in the past, he knew something was amiss. It shouldn't have been so easy for such a shady individual to become Head of the DMLE.

That had just been the start. The _Prophet's_ editor retired and was replaced by a man that subtly changed the paper to be more right-leaning, spinning everything in a positive light, so the public never felt any concern when a small handful of junior officials were also replaced by characters with a questionable past. And then there was the scandal that broke concerning the Minister's two closest aides, a scandal that saw Fudge take a nose-dive in the opinion polls, and resulted in a land slide victory for the opposition when the elections came round. The new leader of the opposition – at the time for he was now Minister of Magic – was a total unknown. Barnabas Bagshot had come from nowhere. He was young, with no political career behind him and the people loved him for it, hailed him as a breath of fresh air after the reputation of the political elite had been crushed by the scandal of the previous government. Politics always divided a nation, of course, but the majority of people didn't give it any thought when Bagshot appointed a fluttering of positions to wizards that should have raised alarm bells – there were even two Death Eaters on his team, and Lucius Malfoy was his closest advisor. Ok, so they had all been acquitted of allegiance to Voldemort, but Albus didn't believe their cries of innocence for a second.

He'd tried to warn people: whispered concerned words in some ears and shouted alarm in others. Those on the side of the government started a smear campaign against him, but he still had enough influence and enough friends to be heard, and large sections of the population were beginning to worry, easily remembering the war that was waged only a decade before, though most wanted to forget the spectre of the past and see him proven wrong. His friends in the Order of the Phoenix were on constant stand-by, but became lax as the months continued to pass without incident and they were pulled along into the trials and triumphs of everyday life.

With the aurors being commanded by darker wizards, the Dark side of the wizarding community was thriving. Knockturn Alley hadn't been so busy for years, but even so, with no major disturbance of the peace resulting from this resurgence, the general population couldn't see the problem.

Albus was worried that when the time finally came for Tom to reveal himself, it would be too late, and he wouldn't have enough wizards willing to stand with him. Even he was distracted of late, having to fight tooth and claw to keep the ministry out of Hogwarts – if anyone else had been headmaster during this time, it would have been a lost cause, so he was grateful for his influence and intimate knowledge of law.

The only silver lining was that this year Harriet Potter would be reintroduced to the world. Her presence would serve to reinvigorate the public, and rekindle the fear of what happened the last time the Dark was allowed to get a foothold in Britain. Most importantly, Harriet was the one prophesised to have the power to defeat Voldemort, so it was essential she was brought under his protection when she returned. He was just glad he'd chosen to leave her with her muggle family, because in the current climate it was far too dangerous for Harry Potter to walk the streets of the wizarding world freely, as any normal child would.

* * *

Harry walked down Diagon Alley, half dragging Draco along with her.

"Come on! We won't be long – just a peek and then we'll come back!"

"Harry, no!" Draco hissed.

The children were out with Miriam, their latest governess. Today was mostly just an excuse to shop for nothing and hang around in town, though Narcissa was to meet with them later in the afternoon in order to acquire Harry's dress for the upcoming party.

Miriam had gone into Scribbulus to gather supplies and left the children with firm instructions to stay by the door, where she could see them, and recite the dates and names of major events and rulers in England's magical history. Why the woman believed they would actually do such a thing was a mystery to Harry, and when she saw Miriam had fallen into conversation with someone within the store, she decided to take advantage of the situation and get a look at Knockturn Alley. It was a place every adult she knew spoke of, but was never allowed to visit.

Draco pulled her to a stop. "We're not supposed to go down there." He insisted, eyeing the dark alley as though it might attack him. "And we're not supposed to wonder off!"

"You are a lot less fun than you used to be." Draco snorted at that. He was certainly much less willing to do anything that would put Harry in harm's way – he'd learned that lesson the hard way and wasn't keen to repeat the experience.

"What if the…" He looked round conspiratorially and leaned forward. "What if You-Know-Who finds out?" He whispered, hoping she'd see sense.

"He won't find out." She replied dismissively. It was a lie. She knew Tom would definitely find out, but by that time it would be too late and she'd have had her fun and proven she could do things on her own. In all honesty she loved that he was so protective of her, but it was still annoying. Also, she was still a little annoyed with Tom for keeping Sirius from her – whenever he did that the punish her godfather, Harry was also punished because she didn't get to see him either, and even though she knew it wasn't Tom's intention, she still resented him for it.

Draco didn't look like he was going anywhere, so she let out a defeated sigh. "Fine, you win." She stepped back, out of his grasp. "You don't have to go anywhere, but I'm going to check it out. You can just wait here." She turned and marched quickly into the narrow shadowy entrance to the forbidden alley before her friend could respond, and smiled to herself when she heard his footsteps running after her. She knew he would never dare let her do something he thought was dangerous without at least backing her up.

The further they walked, the more dangerous it appeared, but both children kept dignified poses and confident masks, even as they became scared at the frightening people who looked at them like they were something to eat. Maybe two blonde haired, blue eyed children walking alone wasn't such a good idea.

One man came out of nowhere and took hold of Harry's should, but Draco was quick to act and stepped forward to push him away.

"Back off!" He growled with impressive menace for a ten year old. The man paused for a moment and he took the opportunity to take Harry's hand and run. They only made it a short way back before being confronted by a large group, so he diverted their path and they ran into the nearest shop for refuge.

"Maybe," Harry started with a wince, "Maybe we should just wait here until Miriam comes to find us." She wasn't going to admit this was a mistake.

"'Ey! What you…" Harry spun in shock at the sudden voice that broke through the eerie stillness of the store and threw out her hands instinctively, a wave of power sending the old wizard flying backwards and hitting the wall with a worryingly loud thud. The man fell unconscious to the floor.

"Do you think he's ok?" She asked, not wanting to approach to make sure.

"Who cares?" Draco responded. He was more concerned with what they were supposed to do now. If they waited to be rescued they'd be in a world of trouble for this little adventure, but if they tried to run back there was a chance they'd be kidnapped or attacked. He couldn't decide which option was worse. And there was always the possibility that more people would come in while they waited. One wizard caught unawares Harry could handle, but they'd never escape if more came.

"What kind of book store is this?" Harry asked, interrupting his panicked thoughts. He looked around but couldn't find the answer to her question. It was a small shop, but all the walls were chocked full of dusty, old books that looked like they'd fall apart as soon as you touched them, the shelves bowing under the weight. There was a further free standing bookshelf and at seemingly random places on the floor more books stood in clumsily stacked towers. If Harry hadn't just knocked out the shop keeper, he'd say the place had been abandoned.

Harry walked the short distance to the glass cabinet beside the counter, which held books that had been set apart from the others. She imagined it was because of their value, and cracked the case open to get a better look.

"I don't think we should touch anything." Draco advised urgently. The last thing they needed was to trigger an alarm or something.

"I'm just looking." Draco held his breath as she reached in and took the uppermost tome, relieved when nothing happened. "Can you read this?" Harry angled the book so he could see the cover, and the faded but obviously foreign language scrawled across it. Draco shook his head.

Harry ran a hand down it to remove the dust, but discovered it was clean; the book was simply aged and worn. She carefully opened it, hoping to get some idea as to why it was so valuable. Suddenly, a blindingly bright blue light filled the room for a second before dying when the book slammed shut of its own accord.

Draco blinked rapidly to shift the white spots from his vision as he raced to where Harry lay dazed on the floor beside the mysterious volume.

"Harry!" He called, feeling weak with dread until she pulled herself up on her elbows and let out a shaky laugh. "Are you ok?"

"Yeh, I'm fine." She sat up. "I was just surprised… Ah!" She jerked once.

"What?!" Urgency and uncertainty strained Draco's voice.

"No, nothing, I just thought…" She placed a hand to her abdomen. "It was just… just… ah" She flinched again. "Just…"

And then Draco felt his world collapse as Harriet started to scream.


	22. All Hell

Severus Snape was just as anxious as his employer. Things were shifting so obviously to the Dark; people were simpleminded fools for not seeing it for what it was, for not believing there was something behind it all. Or someone.

He sat before the roaring fire of his living room at Hogwarts, firewhiskey in hand. He felt every single day that passed. Every day was filled with uncertainty, and that was worse than anything. He'd pressed Lucius time and again for information, but his friend grew distant overnight – it wasn't a good sign. He'd gone through the stage of being afraid, of being sure that at any moment his mark would burn, and he'd be summoned, probably to his death. He had waited. And waited. And the waiting had stretched on further and further – each day that he wasn't called sealing his fate but never delivering it. The Dark Lord hadn't summoned him, and that was proof enough he wasn't trusted, which meant that when the call eventually came, death was the best he could hope for.

But still the days continued to pass, and the waiting became torturous. Every morning he woke on a cliff edge, wondering if today was the day he'd fall. The normally strong and stolid man didn't think he could bear any more waiting, but he did, day after day after day. A dead man walking.

He took a sip, welcoming the burn that warmed him. Yes, he'd moved passed the fear stage, now he just wanted to get it over with: he'd gladly accept death if it was the only thing to relieve the constant strain. He didn't have a death wish, he just wanted it over.

With that pleasant thought, he finished his drink and rose, deciding his Saturday could be better spent than sitting alone in the dark of the dungeons feeling sorry for himself.

He was only half way to his bedroom when it happened. It happened with such intensity that Severus was brought to his knees by the sheer agony of it. If he had any doubt about his fate before, it was gone now. The Dark Lord was summoning him, and he was angry. The Dark Mark had never burned so fiercely before. The searing pain seemed to go deeper than just his tattooed skin, it burned deep, though muscle and bone, sending wave after wave of agony shooting up his arm.

He took a moment to gather himself, to focus his erratic thoughts quickly. There was no use in running from Voldemort, and though he knew that if he went to his former master now, he would be subject to his awful wrath, he welcomed it. At least the wait would finally be over.

* * *

Tom was in a meeting with a like-minded Australian wizard of considerable influence in government when the pain hit. He had to use every trick in the book – throw up every mental defence he knew of to keep it out.

After quickly dismissing the man, Tom hastily downed every pain relieving and numbing potion he dared to drink to lessen the pain but also keep a clear mind. He also made sure his silencing charm was up to scratch and the room was secured – just in case.

Taking a deep breath and maintaining as many mental shields as possible, be opened his link to Harriet.

Pain.

All consuming, tear-your-own-skin-off or jump-to-your-death pain.

Harry was thrashing wildly on the floor of Max's book shop in Knockturn Alley, her voice already hoarse and dried up from screaming; her mind a blinding expanse of white as the pain burned away all other thoughts. The youngest Malfoy was kneeling over her, panicked, tearful eyes wide as he tried to get through to her. The fool. Beside her he could just about see a large book – a diary it seemed, written in ancient Sumerian. It wasn't hard to guess what had happened here.

" _Harry!"_ He tried to force his voice into the white, but it was too much for her to handle. _"Harry, you have to focus!"_ It was useless: even if she could hear him, she wouldn't be able to comprehend his words.

He pulled out of her mind, but didn't feel any relief at being distanced from her agony.

He was panicking, he realised, looking down at his hands as they shook uncontrollably. He was panicking – Him, Lord Voldemort, He who had even cheated death and sought out greater magics than anyone… he was panicking, and he was afraid. And worse, he was on the other side of the world: he was utterly helpless. He could apparate further than perhaps any other wizard alive, but he could not apparate to the other side of the world. He was tempted to try…

He had to calm down: once he calmed down he could solve this.

It only took a minute before he could think clearly enough to, well, think clearly enough. He couldn't afford to waste any more time than that, no matter what advantage it might bring him.

First thing first, if he couldn't be there right away, he would make sure everyone else was, so he quickly summoned his Death Eaters, knowing that with their master so far away, the Mark would take them to his headquarters instead. They were all capable in their own way – they would help. He poured everything he had into the summons, using his anger and panic and _fear_ to fuel it, making clear how urgently he required their presence, and how serious the consequences of dawdling would be. It only took seconds, but it felt longer; it felt like time Harry might not have.

Next he needed to get Harry home. He had never considered possessing Harry before, because he knew the pain it would cause her would be unbearable, but in her current state he doubted she'd even notice, and even if she did, there was no other way.

After bracing himself once more, he opened the link and forced his conscious mind into hers.

Draco's breath hitched when Harry's body suddenly went very still.

"No, no, no. Harry!" He shouted. Her eyes shot open, but the deep, familiar crimson that suddenly pinned him in place caused him to fall back in shock.

"Listen closely, Draco." Her voice was distorted, low, somewhere between a growl and a hiss. It was terrifying, but he'd take anything right now.

"H-H-Harry?"

"Shut up!" She/the Dark Lord (?) snapped. "You are going to take a firm hold of Harriet, and I'm going to take you both to our home." She drew in a pained, raspy breath. "The Death Eaters will be there. They will help. You will make sure they help!" Draco quickly took Harry into his trembling arms. "When I do so, her energy will likely give out, and I won't be able to speak for her. You will." Draco was sure now; he was speaking to the Dark Lord through the girl that was like a sister to him.

"Lucius will be there." Voldemort was just as intimidating when working through Harry. "You make sure to tell him this: Draco Malfoy, if Harry dies: you die." Draco didn't think it was possible to feel any worse than he did, but he was proven wrong. He kept his grip strong as he watched Harry's arms reach up to her pendant. "*Home*"

Tom was violently ejected from her mind as she lost consciousness. That at least was probably for the best. He felt sick, but not because of his manipulation of his soul and consciousness. He felt sick because he'd said it out loud, the fear he'd been trying to squash: 'if she dies'. He was afraid Harry was going to die.

Draco barely felt the new floor slam against him. Harry was indeed sleeping now, but her body still jerked and spasmed. He looked around the unfamiliar, _empty_ , bedroom desperately. Voldemort said there would be people here! Wait…

"Elf?" He cried out. "No, elves!" Three pops reassured him of their presence. "I need, I need… The Death Eaters, where are they? Take us to them! Now!" He shouted.

* * *

It was lucky that such a savage summons had come on a Saturday. Only three of those Voldemort had graced with the Dark Mark had been in the company of those unsympathetic to their cause when their Marks began to burn. They had made their excuses and disapparated quicker than ever before.

They all answered as soon as they could, understanding their Lord's message and impatience loud and clear, though every single one of them had hesitated, even if only for a second, as fear froze them in place – they did not want to be with the Dark Lord if he was really so angry as to torture them so from across country.

Nevertheless, they arrived promptly in the meeting hall and fell silently into formation.

It was odd: He'd demanded their immediate attendance, but was nowhere to be seen. Well, they weren't going to question it!

All eyes turned when another arrived.

"Barty?!" Rabastan called, stepping forward in confusion.

"I thought you died in prison?" Dolohov questioned with half a grin. Barty Crouch Jr looked terrible; too thin, unkempt and a frightened wild look in his eyes. "Barty?" Dolohov too broke formation, even more confused when the young Death Eater took a step away.

"Where've you been, mate?" Goyle asked tentatively.

Barty's gaze swung from familiar face to familiar face, each one making him feel safer, until he finally let out a laugh.

"My dad had me under the imperius. The pain though," He cradled his left arm to himself like it was something precious. "Such terrible pain… it broke through to me, and I was able to answer." Suddenly he spun on the spot to face the front of the room. "Where is He?" He breathed out.

"We're not sure, but it looks like we were all called." Nott said. He was about to say more, when the sound of another apparition distracted him.

Bella was the first to draw her wand, quickly followed by her family, when Severus Snape appeared before them.

"Where is He?" Barty called again, ignoring the interruption, leaving several wizards no choice but to deal with their traumatised comrade, while the others dealt with the traitor.

Snape's face betrayed none of his emotion as he looked out at those assembled. The Dark Lord had gathered his higher tier forces, those with the Mark, and even freed the ones from Azkaban prison – something supposed to be impossible, and he'd done it without drawing a bit of suspicion. The man really was amazing. It was a shame things had worked out this way. His eyes rested on Bellatrix, Heaven help him, she was pregnant! In fact all the escapees seemed in good health, and he wondered how long they'd been free.

"Severus." She spat. "You dare show your face here?" He stared her down.

"I was summoned, as I assume were you. Do you not think it prudent to answer when the Dark Lord calls you?"

"Why would he call you?" Rodolphus spoke up.

"Nott's right: everyone was called." Snape barely heard Yaxly. He was busy trying to kill his paranoia as he thought maybe they had all been called to witness his execution. Bella didn't have popcorn, so that was reassuring.

"Maybe that's why we're here: to take out the trash!" Bella stepped forward and began to swing her wand down. Snape's was drawn in a second, but he didn't have to use it.

"Bella, don't!" Yaxly called as he physically pulled her arm back.

"Don't touch me!" She screamed, taking a swipe at her friend's face and leaving bloody claw marks behind.

"Are you insane?" He growled. "We don't know what the Dark Lord plans to do with him." His cold dead eyes turned to Snape. "I'm sure He knows better than any of us how to deal with traitors." The cruel smirk didn't appease Bella the way it should have, and she lunged at Snape again, this time backed up by her family.

"What's going on down here?" Sirius didn't usually come into the meeting hall, but he knew the Dark Lord was away and so was curious about what was making such a racket.

They had a full house – forty or so Death Eaters creating pandemonium. He'd drank with these people, he'd seen them come home high from whatever terrible things they did, but he'd never seen them like this, and in Voldemort's meeting room too!

He could see a group of men in one corner trying to subdue who if he didn't know better he'd swear was Barty Crouch Jr, while the main disturbance came from a fight that had broken out between the Lestranges and a handful of others, while Lucius, Nott, and Dolohov tried to break it up, which only served to add a third side to the brawl.

He quickly side-stepped a stay shot and his eyes fell on the man at the centre of the action: Snape!

He marched forward and drew his wand, even though he knew it couldn't be used against anyone who bore the Dark Mark.

"Snivillus!" He called nastily over the noise. Snape's head snapped to him, those black eyes swirling with something dangerous, and suddenly he was firing at Sirius, who could only defend as he continued towards him, deciding that if he couldn't attack the man magically, his fists would do just fine.

"Black." Snape ground out, forgetting all about the people trying to kill him and of the Dark Lord's possible imminent return. "I shouldn't be surprised to find you here. Was it worth it? Betraying your friends? I hoped you'd rot in Azkaban, but it would be my pleasure to deal with you personally."

"You're the only traitor here, Snape!" He spun, only to be pushed aside by Nott just in time to miss the AK sent his way by Rabastan. But Snape wasn't deterred and shoved the man away, before ducking through the safety of bodies to step closer to Black. He knew he was dead anyway, but that would be worth it if he could at least take out the bastard that had betrayed Lily before he died.

Draco and Harriet were deposited in a room of chaos, only to be moved again an instant later to avoid being hit.

Draco barely saw the fighting. All he knew was that Harry needed help.

"Help!" He shouted his thoughts as loud as his lungs would allow. "Harry needs help! Now!"

Snape barely heard the words; they only just carried over the ruckus, but their effect was instantaneous. And it confused him greatly. As one, the entire room of powerful and psychotic wizards turned to face the ashen, shaken Malfoy child. Mulciber even stunned Barty in order to get him out of the way, after previously refusing to draw his wand at the suffering man.

Every loyal servant of the Dark Lord knew Harry. They knew how he valued her, and of the unimaginable consequences of hurting her, so when they heard Draco's cry, they snapped to attention. Only many in the room were confused: Draco wasn't holding Henrietta – this girl hard dark hair and a very recognisable curse scar.

"It's Potter!" The shout served as a rallying cry for the others not in the know, and soon a dozen or so wands were trained on her twitching form. Draco had some idea what these people were capable of, but shuffled with wide eyes to place himself between them and Harry.

"Stop. Stop! It Harry! _Harry!"_ He tried to stress, to make them understand. He hadn't even noticed her glamour fail when she'd lost consciousness. He was so used to seeing both appearances. Maybe it was something to do with how the Dark Lord had said her power would drain.

Snape couldn't properly see from his position, but clearly heard the names directed to the sleeping child: Potter, Harry… The Dark Lord had Lily's child! In the seconds it took his mind to make sense of the situation, things only became more confusing. Those aiming their wands hesitated, unsure, almost fearful looks in their eyes. The Death Eaters who had previously been trying to kill him seemed to forget his existence altogether as they abandoned the fight to stand protectively before the girl. Even Bella and Black moved to stand side by side. There was no mistaking the fear in their eyes when they looked at her, though they were hard when facing their colleagues. Even pregnant Bella was a force to be reckoned with, and her eyes promised death to anyone who dared step forward.

"Do you not think the Dark Lord knows who he invites into his home? Think!" Hissed Lucius. "It's _Harry,_ you fools! Holster your wands! If you will not you deserve everything the Dark Lord does to you when He returns." Everyone moved to comply, though some more warily than others.

"D-dad." Draco whimpered. "Harry, she needs help… I think… I think she's been cursed. We have to hurry!" Everything was quiet for a moment and then the mood changed once more and everyone appeared to be sober-minded and focused on the orders being given by Lucius. They all snapped to attention - a well oiled machine.

Snape walked, slowly and steadily toward the children – towards the girl now being held by Black. Nobody saw him, and it crossed his mind that he would probably be able to simply walk out of the Dark Lord's base right now without anyone noticing. It was tempting, but he had to see for himself.

When he reached a few feet away, Black faced him with a warning, animalistic growl. He was close enough to see the scar now, but it didn't help. Why the hell was the Dark Lord's elite force scrabbling to help his enemy?

"Mulciber, get the healers here immediately! Macnair, the best curse-breakers you know: get them here, I don't care if they're friendly. We'll deal with them after. For Merlin's sake, someone call my wife!" Lucius barked one order after another. He was one of those in the room that was being driven by fear for the child, not just fear of their master. He knew Narcissa would also want to be here.

When Harry thrashed for a few seconds in Black's arms before going still again, reality finally hit Snape. Harry Potter was here, she was injured, possibly dying, and he, who'd sworn to protect her, was the only one not helping. He took another single step forward.

"I can help."

And so he followed the small entourage of healers from the room while most stayed out of the way, having done all they could for now. Before he left, he heard Draco's small shaky voice.

"Dad, if she dies," The boy sobbed, "He's going to kill me."

 **Longer chapters than usual, but I couldn't make it fit any other way. Hope you enjoyed.**

 **Thank you as always! xx**


	23. Fallout

The Malfoy parents sat in awkward silence with the Azkaban escapees. They'd done little else for the last seven hours, all the while fighting their desire to run far, far away. Barty was with a healer, Snape was in the dungeons and all the other Death Eaters had been sent home in a bid to avoid the suspicion their absence would raise – something they had been only too happy to do – while those left behind set up a way to get Harry help.

They felt the suffocating, menacing presence moments before the doors to the lounge flew open, and when Voldemort appeared a second later they couldn't deny the urgent need to surrender, kneeling lowly before the personification of demonic rage that stood before them.

Thinking his master would appreciate an update straight away Lucius spoke first, never lifting his eyes from the floor and so missing how the powerful wizard's jaw twitched in irritation.

"My Lord…"

"CRUCIO!" Voldemort screamed, sending his would be lieutenant across the room with the power of the spell, while everyone else tried not to breathe too loudly, lest they draw attention. It was rare for Him to raise His voice like that. Lucius regretted his presumption, and not just because of the pain – the Dark Lord would let them know what information he wanted and when he wanted it.

Tom was indeed angry, beyond furious really that his Harriet had been harmed on their watch, (and that in the end he had allowed her to become such a weakness to him), but he was also exhausted. It didn't show, of course, but although he'd deny it under torture, it affected him as it would any other being. There was also the not insignificant fact that he still couldn't feel out Harry, which could only mean one of two things: that she was still comatose, or that other thing, the one he'd refused to give any thought to since speaking to Draco.

"Ah, excuse me," He mocked. "There was something you wanted to say?" Lucius ducked his head even lower from his recovered kneeling position. "I thought not. Then perhaps I might be allowed to speak?" His voice was soft, and sent shivers of fear through his servants as he stepped between them gracefully, as though he were not an imminent threat, and they weren't at the flash-point of an explosion.

"All I want to hear is fact; no excuses, no spin." He spat, having no patience for pathetic grovelling. "So," he began, his wand twirling effortlessly through his fingers as he looked down on those present, "Where is Harriet?"

Lucius gulped – this was going to be a painful night if he wasn't allowed to explain his actions before answering that question.

* * *

Albus sat at Harriet Potter's beside, deep in thought and barely seeing the nurse that was casting the same monitoring spells that had been carried out every fifteen minutes since the Girl-Who-Lived was rushed in weeks ago.

Something was very wrong with the current situation, but he couldn't nail down just what it was.

Tom had finally made a move, but it didn't make any sense to the revered headmaster, and he could sympathise with why so many were ready to write the incident off as the work of dark wizards settling an old score.

It had started when a rat belonging to the Weasley family had begun thrashing around in its cage, before growing large enough to break free, and much to the horror of his keepers, transforming into the writhing, howling mound of flesh of a man assumed to be long dead: Peter Pettigrew. Molly had been quick to stun him, before contacting Albus, her husband, and the DMLE. It was the beginning of a day Albus had awaited with trepidation, but played out not at all as he'd expected.

After a short interrogation that left nobody in any doubt that Peter was lying through his teeth, Arthur insisted Sirius Black be brought back for questioning. At first Albus had been content to simply allow the official investigation to do its job in rooting out the truth behind the events that led to Black's imprisonment, in favour of pressing Pettigrew for answers regarding how long he'd been spying on the Order members and why he'd revealed himself today. However, Beets' unwillingness to call for Black was ill-concealed and raised more pressing questions, such as just what the Dark wizards in the DLME were trying to hide, and so in the end he'd used his remaining connections in government to expedite Black's transfer, and even insisted on going along for the ride, just to make sure.

He almost wished he'd stayed ignorant.

Unknown to Dumbledore, Beets had immediately flooed Lucius, but it was impossible to get Black back to Azkaban before the ministry arrived and Dumbledore would not be stalled.

The old man was shocked speechless for a second when he'd arrived on the desolate island only to discover a haggard muggle stranger where his old ally was supposed to be. However his shock only amplified and turned to dread when after a thorough search of the prison it transpired that there'd been a serious breach, with every top tier Death Eater they'd caught missing, along with several other vicious killers. It cemented his suspicions that Tom was at work in Britain and that Albus was woefully blind to the true extent of his activities.

He'd left the officials to investigate at the prison and returned to question Peter, but only minutes after arriving, the whole auror office was sent into a flurry of activity as team after team was dispatched: Privet Drive had been attacked.

Jumping from one crisis to the next, he'd quickly apparated to the muggle neighbourhood, just in time to see Harriet Potter being taken away by medi-wizards from St. Mungo's. Her former residence and two other homes were ablaze, lost in the all-consuming inferno of Fiendfyre and several other muggles lay dead about the street, including his squib spy. It looked like there'd been a fight, or at the very least that a good old fashioned Death Eater raid had been interrupted.

Saddened though he was about the loss of life, it was almost a relief that something had happened that would finally force the public to take notice. The murder was enough, but the attack on the precious Girl-Who-Lived would create an uproar that was long overdue. Or so he thought.

After helping subdue the fire he followed Potter to the hospital, where he was knocked off balance once more when he was informed the girl had been cursed: It simply wasn't Tom's style. He knew the Dark wizard would want to take care of his fated enemy personally, and besides that the whole day was messy, unfinished and left his forces exposed and damaged, with no discernible advantage. Dumbledore couldn't imagine Tom would have been so careful and clever all these years, only to throw away his grand reveal on such a nonsensical plan.

Given all this, it was easy for the media to claim the attack was executed by the fugitives who'd wanted revenge on Potter and the muggles that cared for her, and to his endless frustration, people seemed inclined to believe it. A small group of known criminals acting alone was certainly an easier pill to swallow than his explanation that Voldemort had built a powerful machine of wizards that was infiltrating every inch of society.

In the weeks that followed, Albus came no closer to alleviating his confusion. All he'd learned was that Black was innocent, at least of the crime he'd been imprisoned for, and that someone had broken the curse and attempted to heal Harriet before the healers had arrived – someone with considerable medical knowledge. The unknown guardian angel had yet to come forward.

Even with the international wizarding world's greatest healers working tirelessly, Harriet had been in critical condition for the first two weeks, and although they were now confident she would recover, she still hadn't woken from her coma. The only shred of good Albus could take from this whole affair was that even the dark leaning media seemed happy to propagate her triumph. The Potter Princess had now survived certain death twice, increasing her celebrity and potential future influence in the process.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the nurse's gentle gasp and raised his head to see Harriet blinking tiredly. _Finally._

Harry squirmed against the harsh lights and powerful smell of potions that attacked her senses on waking. At first she was confused and of all the things she could have noticed about her environment, the first thing to catch her attention was the absence of her bracelet – a bracelet that had been a constant presence for years. Then the misadventure in Knockturn Alley returned to her with force and she struggled against her exhaustion to look around.

She was filled with trepidation once her eyes fell on Albus Dumbledore, though on the outside all he could see was her distrustful glare.

"It's alright, Harriet, you're safe now." His voice was soft and he smiled kindly. She wanted him to go away, so immediately started to reach out to Tom, but then suddenly stopped herself. She'd done this; she'd disobeyed; gotten herself hurt and apparently gotten herself caught by Tom's enemy. He was going to be furious with her.

Harry didn't fear Tom the way everyone else did, she didn't believe he'd truly hurt her: she feared disappointing him, and causing problems like this… and that he'd never forgive her.

"How do you feel?" She didn't answer as her mind raced to find a solution, or at least to figure out what she could do to get away.

Seeing her distrust he continued. "You're in the hospital, and I assure you you're perfectly safe here." She wished! "Do you remember what happened?" She shook her head, wondering if she'd be able to claim forgetfulness as an answer to all his questions. "You were subjected to a powerful curse – one designed to kill in a most painful way."

"What happened to me?" She asked guardedly, not wanting to speak with this man, but needing answers. He was relieved to hear her voice.

"The curse has caused irreversible damage, and huge trauma to your body and nervous system." Her eyes widened in panic over just what exactly she'd done to herself. She felt relatively normal… "In this case however, it is fortunate that the curse is so pernicious: it works by slowly destroying organs, melting through every nerve ending as it goes, however to ensure the victim suffers adequately before they die, it starts on those organs the body can live without." This didn't sound at all fortunate to Harry. "First it took your appendix, then your gall bladder, your spleen and part of your bowls. You were lucky it was stopped before it went on to destroy those organs that come in pairs, though it did start on several. There was also extensive muscle damage, though that was fixed along with everything else that wasn't completely destroyed." Lucky? She felt sick – she was pretty sure she needed those things he'd listed. "Once you recover you shouldn't notice any difference to your general health." She tried to focus on that last sentence. She was ok-ish, so she could fix this. She could…

"I know this must be overwhelming. What did your aunt tell you of our world?" He asked, hoping to start with the easier questions before searching for any clues she might unknowingly have about what happened to her.

She frowned. "I don't feel up to answering any questions right now." Her voice was as weak as could be expected, but the confidence and strength behind it made him fight back a frown of his own because this was not how he imagined Harriet Potter to be. She spoke with the dignity of a graceful pureblood, not the downtrodden outcast he'd been expecting. Her words employed the same feigned tact that the aristocracy used, though it wasn't so brash, and made clear that she _would not_ be answering his questions. She spoke as though she was used to getting what she wanted. "I don't know you, sir, and I'd like you to leave." Harry turned away to hide the smile she was trying to contain after seeing the old goat's eyes widen ever so slightly. She didn't see anything wrong with her request though, because if she hadn't already known of Dumbledore, this entire situation would have put her at an unfair disadvantage and she'd have been defenceless against his machinations.

"Quite right, do forgive me. My name is Albus Dumbledore." She gave no response. He wanted to push her, but decided against it. It wouldn't do to make her defensive and wary of him when she was in what must surely have felt like such a vulnerable state. "Very well, I'll leave you to get some rest, and perhaps we can talk another time." Not if she could help it!

After seeing her nod he stood and left the room, feeling a little unnerved by her cool mien. She hadn't even asked after her family. It was another thing to add to his mounting pile of unanswered questions. He must have been preoccupied by his thoughts, because just before apparating from the street corner, he could have sworn he saw the large dark sheen of a familiar and currently elusive animagus.

Meanwhile upstairs, while healers buzzed around her, Harry answered their questions and concerns perfunctorily as her mind raced, before coming to a screeching halt.

" _Harriet."_ Tom's voice was stern and she wanted to cry, but there were just too many people around. She wasn't ready to face him yet; she hadn't fixed anything! _"You really are a most silly child – how could you possibly fix this?"_ She paused for a moment, before glaring weakly at the impersonal hospital wall. His voice was still sombre, but the underlying tease was unmistakable.

She still reckoned she was in a tonne of trouble, but Tom was still there for her. She was going to be ok.

 **I apologise for the delays!**

 **There will be a short back-track to show what's been happening at Tom's in the next chapter which should fill in any missing pieces, e.g. Snape.**

 **xx**


	24. Getting by

Snape's head hadn't stopped spinning for weeks. It might have had something to do with the blood loss, or it might have had something to do with how the Dark Lord had viciously torn through his mind and left him a drooling wreck for almost a full week. However, despite of these factors, he felt it had more to do with him trying to build a credible scenario where Lord Voldemort and his most loyal band of followers were at pains to ensure the safety and wellbeing of Harriet Potter. If he hadn't seen it himself, he never would have believed it: they'd dedicated all the resources at their disposal to help her, and then, when it transpired they couldn't save the girl, he'd watched Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange threatening to kill any of their comrades who tried to stop Narcissa taking her to St. Mungo's herself. He could have accepted a miracle of some sort had happened – that Bella's hormones were making her crazy, or crazier, but it didn't stop there. The Death Eaters that challenged the sisters weren't challenging their intention to get Harry help, just the way they went about it, and Snape couldn't force their actions into anything resembling sense. They seemed genuinely concerned for the child, and before he was knocked out he heard enough to know they believed the Dark Lord would be furious that she'd been harmed – that they were even afraid he'd take their lives in penance if his supposed-to-be enemy lost hers.

Voldemort had only visited him once, but he'd never be able to forget the encounter for the man had plundered his mind without care, which told Snape he was as good as dead in his former master's eyes – that he saw no further use for him. But that just created more questions, such as why he was still breathing. The day after the mind-healer had finished treating him his former allies had started to visit. They were visibly tense and seemed all too happy to take out their own frustrations on him, though again he was still breathing, so their master must have been restraining them in some way.

He was back to hoping the Dark Lord would kill him and get it over with. He desperately wanted to know what had been going on during the last few years, but that might give him peace of mind and that was obviously not something he'd be granted any time soon.

* * *

Tom sat comfortably, lost in his thoughts as they went over everything that had happened since he'd returned to England. One of his Death Eaters was present and likely waiting for a response of some sort, but he didn't care. There was nothing to be done today, so anything the man had to tell him could wait.

An hour after returning to Bleeding Wolf Lane, Tom had been adequately convinced that Lucius' actions had been necessary. His base was stocked with enough supplies and had access to enough healers to act as a military hospital, but still, the curse had done too much damage by the time it was broken and his followers hadn't been able to save Harry. Narcissa had wanted to simply walk the girl right up the steps of St. Mungo's herself, and Bella was prepared to take out anyone who tried to stop her from doing so. It was a frantic and aggressive argument that followed and in only a few minutes the majority of the Death Eaters present realised there was no way one of them could be seen with Harry without opening a can of worms that would throw suspicion on her for being in the Malfoys' company or even expose their Lord. They didn't know which would be received worse by the Dark Lord: Harry's death or His exposure, though they had their suspicions.

It was a blessing when Beets called to tell of the situation regarding Azkaban because it gave them an idea of how to kill two birds with one stone: to make it appear that the escapees were working recklessly and alone, and to get Harry the best care available. Only the former inmates were tasked with setting up a believable scene, though they didn't manage to have much fun with it – it was a hasty job, loud and obnoxious and certain to draw plenty of attention.

Tom could acknowledge they'd made the best of a bad situation, or as best they could with no time to properly plan, but that didn't make the situation itself any easier to live with. Harry was now in the hands of his enemies, with no apparent guardian to act on her behalf. He knew she would never say or do anything to put him at risk, and that it was therefore only useless emotion that made him so anxious about her situation and so he tried to ignore it, but that didn't mean he hadn't seriously considered scrapping all his planning and preparation from the last several years in order to get her back.

Nevertheless, satisfied with their efforts, Voldemort then moved on to how Harry had come to harm in the first place. Draco needed no incentive to tell the truth, as he was already a blubbering wreck the second he was brought before him. He found Harry and Draco's governess deficient, and personally made sure she would be begging for death until Harry was returned to him, at which time he would mercifully grant her request. He couldn't punish the Malfoys the way he wished to because they were such public figures and this was a delicate time, but he still made them suffer in the way only a family could. Besides he could appreciate that Draco had done his duty to the best of his limited ability and was therefore lenient. There had to be a distinction between effort and failure or there'd be no incentive to try at all. In fact, if it was anyone but Harriet he might have even rewarded his future servant in order to encourage obedience.

Snape was another matter altogether. His thoughts were indeed treacherous – he'd thrown away all he believed in for that mudblood bitch and become a servant to his Lord's enemy. It was a shame to see such potential thrown away, but betrayal could not be tolerated: Snape would be executed, though one small memory, one of those Snape had tried most to hide, revealed the man had taken an oath to protect Harriet, and that stayed Voldemort's hand. It would be useful to have such a gifted and capable man there to bring out whenever Harry needed protection, but Snape could obviously not be trusted. It was something he needed to think on, so in the meantime he sent Rabastan into Hogwarts under a polyjuice potion. It was one of the few good things to come out of this whole mess – having a spy so close to Dumbledore would be invaluable. Lestrange would be able to handle teaching, but if the old man required him to actually brew anything even slightly complex he'd have to improvise.

The weeks that followed were torturous for the inhabitants of Bleeding Wolf Lane. Their Lord's mood remained dark and dangerous and they would find themselves punished for the most trifling things. They'd find their mouth sown shut because He didn't care for their tone of voice, or a bone broken because they'd shifted too loudly. It was a little bizarre and definitely unsustainable. The Death Eaters tended to pass time in the relative safety of each other's rooms and stayed absolutely professional and subservient when they were called. After his return to power they'd been honoured to reside in their Lord's home; Voldemort was always a little… intense, but his genius and strength and charisma made it feel natural for them to defer to him. They were moths to a flame, and sure every now and then they got burnt, but the advantages of being so close to the light and energy were undeniable and life had been pretty good. However since Harry left they no longer felt like the court of a king or the soldiers of a General; they felt more like slaves. Voldemort never once offered them a seat, and often he seemed to even overlook permitting them to stand. His plans forged ahead as usual, so there had been many complaints of aching backs and legs after long meetings and in the privacy of their rooms. And of course nobody asked after Harry after Bella's initial enquiry had found Rod unconscious for over 4 days.

The void at the back of Tom's mind where Harry was supposed to be was distracting. She'd always known him to be there, but for him this link was relatively new, so it was odd that it felt like a literal loss, like a piece of himself was missing. Maybe he'd allowed their connection to grow too strong. It had become natural to speak with Harry that way, and he'd attempted to do so a few times, forgetting he couldn't reach her.

Tom had had to freeze his emotions in order to move forward: his followers all knew how he valued Harriet, and that he was extraordinarily lenient with her, but they didn't know why, and he couldn't allow them to truly see what a great weakness she was to him – it was simply too dangerous. So he'd focused on his anger. Anger got things done, and it kept his people in line. Besides, if they came to associate Harry with an easier life, that could only be a good thing, because they would come to appreciate her mere presence.

The only member of his house not to bend his neck in total obedience was Black. Of course it was Black! For the first week of Harry's coma Black had been broken in ways he hadn't been since the start of his conditioning years ago. It was generous of the animagus really, to offer up such a therapeutic outlet. Since then he'd become increasingly submissive and desperate in his attempts to convince the Dark Lord to let him see Harry. On one occasion he'd even been reduced to kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes as his followers did – that had been the only thrill of satisfaction Tom felt since her absence. But still Black pushed him, eventually offering up an idea worthy enough to be heard. It hinged on whether Black could be trusted, and Tom knew that after the way he'd been treating him these last weeks he probably couldn't, but it was better than nothing, so he was prepared to take the risk.

Tom waved a hand to signal Carrow was to start his debrief, but only half listened as he stared into the fire, his wand tapping absently against his thigh. Suddenly, and out of nowhere, a tiny, barely noticeable itch at the back of his mind brought him to attention. He sat bolt upright and dismissed the kneeling man before he could finish his sentence, then locked the door with a flick of his wand and delved into Harry's mind. He just _knew_ she was awake.

He remained torpid as he watched her exchange with Dumbledore – he wouldn't do anything to make the old man suspicious, though that was difficult when the little girl rebuked and dismissed the revered Leader of the Light.

Tom had been determined to remain stoic, to not allow his emotions to get in the way of dealing with Harry, because really he still wanted to wring her neck for putting herself in such terrible danger. However the little monster pre-empted him once again and he couldn't help the relief and fond-feeling breaking through as her thoughts grew more erratic and ashamed. She'd only just woken up, found herself in the presence of an enemy and gravely injured… and she was worrying about him!

" _Harriet."_ He finally spoke. _"You really are a most silly child – how could you possibly fix this?"_ Her thoughts were a little difficult to follow as they whirled to come up with a response. The snippets of ideas and half-baked plans that flew through her mind made him smile, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt his muscles starting to relax.

" _I'll think of something!"_ She insisted, though it was clear she didn't have much confidence in the declaration. Everything was a mess and it was all her fault.

Suddenly she turned on her side and pulled the blanket over her head as she broke down, tears flowing freely.

" _Tom, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry I didn't listen. I want to come home. Please!"_ Her little heart was breaking and it made Tom uncomfortable. It had been years since he'd seen her like this. He'd watched her grow strong, but now she was lost and alone and unsure.

" _Quiet!"_ She pressed her lips together to hold back more tears, but that just resulted in a pathetic whining noise escaping her. _"Do you really want to be in more trouble than you already are?"_ He threatened darkly, causing her to sniffle loudly to stop her crying, before ignoring his previous command altogether.

" _Tom, I don't like it here. Can I come home? Please. I promise I'll be good!"_ Tom couldn't help it – he rolled his eyes. He was glad she was so distraught, that she understood the seriousness of her mistake, but it was difficult to stay focused on being cross with her when he could feel, not only her anguish, but also the immense relief she felt just talking to him.

" _Don't make promises you can't keep Harriet."_ His words were still harsh, but she didn't seem to care. She knew him well enough to know he was only half serious/half mocking. She'd always be a little monster and they both knew it.

Her hands were clenched tightly around the pendant that would take her home, just waiting for him to say it was ok. _"Can I come home?"_ She repeated.

" _No."_ Fresh tears broke free, flowing down her checks, and in that moment he couldn't remember why he'd ever wanted her to wake from the coma in the first place. _"Not for a while. You need to fully heal, and if you do anything else to put yourself in danger,_ _ **I'll**_ _kill you!"_ He threatened. _"Besides, you're never leaving the house again when you do return, so you might as well make the most of your time out there while you can."_ Harry paused at that last part: he sounded serious.

She bit her lip. _"You're kidding, right?"_

" _Try me."_


	25. Trust

" _So, erm, how's Draco?"_ It was a few days since Harry first woke up, and after her emotional breakdown she and Tom were almost back to normal, though she still dreaded what he had planned for her when she got home – he couldn't really be planning to ground her _forever_ , right?

" _He's fine."_ That wasn't saying much coming from Tom; Draco could have been attacked by a werewolf and he'd still probably consider him to be 'fine'. He smirked at her thoughts and continued. _"He wasn't injured in Knockturn Alley and was able to get you to help."_

" _Great! So he helped, right? He was helpful! He…"_

" _I didn't punish him, Harry."_ He interrupted flatly; knowing where she was going with this and what she was really worried about.

" _Oh. Good."_ She sighed in relief.

" _I had his parents do it."_ Something in the way he said that turned her blood cold. Parents were the ones children relied on for protection…

" _But he's fine?"_ She repeated, wanting confirmation.

" _Of course, though I'm sure family time has been a little awkward of late."_ He mocked.

Harry felt terrible. Other people always paid for her mistakes – like the whole world was her whipping boy. She just hoped that whatever Tom had made Narcissa and Lucius do to Draco could be overcome. She didn't want to lose them, or them to lose each other.

" _Oh, stop worrying about the peons. I assure you they're fine."_

" _Stop being so mean."_ She countered immediately.

Yep, things were back to normal.

* * *

Harry had forced herself to get dressed and situated in the chair beside her hospital bed. The medi-wizard in charge of her care had finally cleared her fit to be questioned by the aurors, and she didn't want to be lying on her back in hospital cotton when they arrived.

It hadn't surprised her that Dumbledore joined them, though she still questioned why the headmaster of a school she didn't even attend needed to be there.

"Ah, I only wish I needn't be." He replied lightly. "But the attack has raised many concerns that dark wizards have become a threat to our society once again." She gave no response, because that hardly answered her questions! His twinkling eyes never left her and that kindly, knowing smile made her uncomfortable. Tom had told her what to do and say, but she was far from confident of her ability to fool this experienced old man.

"Miss Potter, what do you remember of the day you were attacked?" She recognised the auror who spoke, but not by name, so could only hope he was one of Tom's people.

"Very little." She shifted a little, but maintained dignity: no matter who these people worked for, or whose side they were on, they didn't have the right to question her. She was only going through this charade in order to get home. "I was in my room, reading, and I heard my aunt come home. She was shouting about something, but she was always a little high strung anyway so I tried to ignore it, but then a few minutes later there was a loud crash. Then the screaming started. The last thing I knew my bedroom door flew open and there was a blinding light. I'm sorry I can't tell you anything more."

Albus frowned. It was too collected an answer. And he couldn't imagine Death Eaters not wanting to have 'fun' or at the very least gloat and ridicule her before they tried to kill the girl who defeated their master. "You don't seem too upset about what became of your family." He tried to keep any accusation from his voice, but noticed her eyes narrowing a little.

"The nurse already told me they died in the fire, that it was a magic fire that incinerated everything inside the house. They might have been my family, and I cared for them because of that, but I didn't particularly like them." His frown deepened. "I'm sorry that they're dead, I am," She took a moment, and then her eyes were wet with unshed tears – she was thinking of her parents, but Dumbledore didn't need to know that. "But I survived… I can only think of that." She looked down as though ashamed. Harry hadn't thought of the Dursleys for years, but assumed they were dead – she'd never asked Tom about what happened to them, because she didn't know whether she'd be able to handle knowing, and Tom must have thought likewise because he never brought them up either.

"Did you see anything in the days before the attack that seemed unusual to you? Any wizards in the area, or even just strangers you noticed hanging around?" She shook her head.

"What did they tell you of the wizarding world?" Harry didn't like that question because she had no idea what it had to do with the current conversation, and the fact it came from Dumbledore made her suspicious.

"Nothing."

"We are trying to help you – protect you, Harriet. Please don't lie to us."

"I'm not lying." She spat, struggling to keep the contempt from her voice. Tom must have had more of an influence on her than she thought, because these people were actually beginning to irritate her. It didn't help that she knew Dumbledore must have had ulterior motives. She could appreciate that the aurors might have been genuinely trying to help her, or solve a crime, but she'd never forget the old man's part in her miserable childhood, nor would she forgive.

"If you're trying to protect someone, we can help them too." Dumbledore tried kindly. "We know someone was at your house that day – someone who protected you."

She looked down again, clasping her hands tightly. "They never told me anything." She insisted.

"Harriet…" The old man sighed in disappointment, and the other auror, the one who'd yet to speak, took over.

"You are familiar with our world though, aren't you?" He was sharp and almost accusatory in his questioning; this one was definitely not one of Tom's. "The healers say you never appeared uncomfortable drinking potions, or about the spells being cast on you – things that would surely seem bizarre for someone raised by muggles."

"But I…"

"And you wear a portkey around your neck, one we have been unable to remove, so a wizard or witch of considerable skill must have placed it upon you at some point." Her eyes narrowed at her hands. "So who gave it to you?"

Albus could clearly see her defences rising and decided to intervene before she stopped communicating altogether. "Rowen, do remember the child is the victim here."

"Be that as it may, the circumstances around the attack are suspicious, and Harriet's reluctance to aid the investigation leads me to believe there is more going on here than meets the eye." Harry glared at the auror.

"Do you think I did this to myself? Really?! Do you get many cases of suicide by torture curse?" She scoffed.

"Of course I don't think…"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore interrupted, raising his voice just a little, "it might be helpful if you at least told us who gave you that pendant." Harry sniffed at the question before making a point of turning her face away.

"Have you ever seen any of these people?" The unfriendly auror pushed forward, undeterred by her lack of cooperation, and laid out photos of all those missing from Azkaban. She'd seen them all, of course, but shook her head after carefully looking through them. She paused on her godfather's picture – he looked deranged as he thrashed and pulled against his bonds – she wanted to keep the poster to tease him with.

"You don't recognise anyone?" She shook her head again at the mean auror. "But you are familiar with wizard photography." She stayed silent, but secretly wished Tom was here to wipe that smug look off his face. She had to keep remaindering herself that he was just doing his job.

"What were you reading?" The question threw her off a little as he switched back to the previous line of inquiry, and she tried to remember any of her old muggle books.

"Shakespeare." She said stupidly. Shakespeare? She wanted to kick herself: couldn't get any more obvious an author than that! As Dumbledore tactfully challenged the truth of her answer she managed to compose herself.

"Really?" She rolled her eyes.

"No, not really, but ask a stupid question and get a stupid answer. What does my choice of books have to do with any of this?" She was letting this get away from her, getting too emotional.

"Even the most insignificant detail could help." The old man answered while he pondered about her attitude. There it was again: that confidence and arrogance. Just where had that come from? Harry caught the calculating look in his eye and forced herself back into character.

The questioning went on for a while, and while it could have gone better, she didn't think she'd given away anything important.

Albus parted ways with the aurors in the hallway. He was tempted to go back and try again, alone this time, without officials making her uneasy. He'd planned on 'being there' for her when she came round, on being a rock to cling to in the uncertain world she found herself in, but the child was guarded and didn't seem to need such a thing. He hoped it was simply a lack of care at home that had made her so independent, because then, with time, he could reach her. For now though, he decided it was best to let her stew in her solitude.

* * *

Several days later, Harry watched Dumbledore's back as he left the room. The man was tenacious, she had to give him that, but the way he spoke made her hackles rise every time – it reminded her of her aunt, of the way she spoke so softly and kindly whenever she was pretending to be nice, or to care.

This time the interrogation had been about a short interview she gave to Witch Weekly. The interview confirmed she was well acquainted with wizarding culture. She'd given various opinions on her favourite stars and even knew the names and styles of various designers. It was thoroughly aggravating, but that wasn't what brought him here today. He was more concerned with the response she'd given when asked of her opinion on the current political landscape – more specifically, on the bill he currently fighting in the Wizengamot. Mandatory Muggleborn Registration should have been a definite no-no for a girl heralded as the champion of all things 'Light'. The journalist had stressed that Harriet had been hesitant to give an opinion on something she didn't know much about, but in the end had decided the bill was a good thing. She claimed getting to muggleborns at an early age would stop any unnecessary suffering for children who were currently left in the dark about the incredible things they could do, and that it would ease social integration.

Before the attack on Harry, no one would have dared propose something as sinister as the MMR, but with the nation's media wrapped up in the miracle girl, it was easy for news of the proposal to be buried on page 7 in most publications. Public backlash had therefore been minimal, and now this? Her celebrity saw her opinion plastered on every front page this morning, with supporting articles from scholars to political pundits, which had in turn caused major damage to his support, and his cries that the bill had nothing to do with _helping_ muggleborns landed on deaf ears. He had been struggling to block the bill before, but now it would probably pass by a landslide. He had planned to use her fame for his own ends: this was a nightmare!

Harry grinned as she watched Dumbledore's shadow in the corridor. She had no idea why Tom wanted her to support some boring politics thing, but she'd greatly enjoyed frustrating the old man, so she didn't care either.

She turned as Sirius stepped out of his hiding place in her bathroom, but fell into confusion at seeing his solemn face.

"What's wrong?" She asked immediately.

He just shook his head sadly. "Nothing." Biting her lip, Harry tried to think of something to lighten the mood.

"They say I should be able to leave in a week, all being well."

"That's great." Replied Sirius half-heartedly. Seeing a distraction wouldn't be enough, she stood and gave her godfather a tight hug.

"It's ok. Whatever it is, it's ok." She reassured. "I'm fine, you're fine… everyone's fine." She laughed.

"Everyone you know if fine." His voice was quiet over her shoulder. "But what about everyone else?" Harry stepped back to look at him.

"Well, I can only take care of my own." The normal jovial Sirius that had snuck into her room that morning was nowhere to be seen – she blamed Dumbledore. Nothing else had happened in the last hour to affect her godfather this way. She tried to laugh again. "Do you expect me to go out and fight crime? End world hunger?"

Finally Sirius gave a small smile. No, he didn't expect her to do anything so grand. It was simply difficult for him to be exposed to Voldemort's manoeuvring. It was easier to remain sheltered from it all back at home – that he would equate that word with the Dark Lord's base was confusing enough.

Before he could think of what to say the opened again, and without warning he found himself face to face with an old friend.

"Sirius?!" Dumbledore gasped, looking from the escapee to the child and back again, before finally smiling in relief. "It all makes sense now. This is who you were trying to protect." He wasn't at all concerned by Harriet's scowl as she stood protectively in front of Sirius: of course she'd want to protect him from the man she probably thought wanted him sent back to prison. He should have guessed. He should have noticed how her eyes lingered on his picture. He should have known that after escaping Sirius would have gone to find his goddaughter, that he would have taught her all about magic, and even passed his knowledge of pureblood customs on to her. And of course, he would have protected her when old enemies came knocking. There were still questions to be answered, but this was wonderful news. As soon as he was legally vindicated, he would no doubt want custody, and having Sirius care for Potter meant she'd still be within his influence.

* * *

As soon as the two men left the room, Harry called Tom.

" _It worked!"_

" _Of course, though I'm surprised it took the old fool so long to find your pet."_ Harry huffed, but wouldn't allow Tom to ruin her good mood. Things had gone as planned, and soon Sirius would take her away from here and she could finally go home.

Tom was also relieved that things had worked out, but now Sirius was completely out of his reach. He had to trust the animagus and he hated that: he could be telling Dumbledore anything right now, and even with all the work he'd put into Sirius, he was concerned he might disobey.

If Sirius tried to keep Harry from him – if he'd fooled himself into believing he could, then even Harry wouldn't be able to protect him. It would be the end of Sirius Black.


	26. Hopeless

12 Grimmauld Place was disgusting.

"You've had a month – you couldn't have cleaned a little?" Harry asked as she walked down the narrow hallway. Even the walls were thick with dust, and she could only worry about what awful things she might be inhaling. Privet Drive felt like a lifetime ago, but even that awful muggle residence had at least been clean.

"I haven't had a month," Sirius returned as he batted away cobwebs. "But hey, I'm sure with a little hard work we could get this place liveable in no time."

Harry stopped in the doorway when he showed her to the living room. There wasn't even anywhere to sit. Sirius saw her hesitation and grinned.

"I don't have many happy memories of this house. If the past had form, this," He lifted his arms to the desolation around them, "would be mine." Harry could feel his sorrow, his miserable childhood. His eyes were just too expressive even through his roguish grin and his sad reminiscence was almost tangible. She stepped into the room to take his hand.

"It's ok, we aren't…" She was interrupted by the sorriest looking house elf Harry had ever seen. It was older than any she'd ever seen and looked to be as filthy as the house – which was the filthiest house she had ever seen.

"Nasty brat brought Harriet Potter, she who stopped the Dark Lord, into this home. Poor Mistress, poor…" It muttered as though they couldn't hear it. At first she felt bad for it, but then she processed its words and was rather outraged to hear an elf speak that they to its masters. She hadn't heard anything like it since she first met Dobby.

"An elf?" Harry asked in shock. "You have an elf and the place is in this state?"

"Kreacher isn't exactly happy we're here. Maybe you can tell?" He gave a wry laugh. Harry just looked confused.

"It doesn't matter whether he's happy about it. Aren't you his master?" Her confusion was genuine and Sirius was easily reminded that she was truly not a creation of the Potters. Not that he every really forgot. She pretentiously rounded on Kreacher. "Elf, you are a disgrace." The haggard creature turned as though just noticing their presence and gave a begrudging bow, not at all moved by her words.

"The vile girl is talking to Kreacher, bold as brass. What would my poor mistress say if she saw the scum here…"

"How dare you?!" Harry's voice was dignified and hard for a ten year old girl, harder then he'd ever heard her, but he couldn't blame her for it; she was used to respectful, obedient elves – her 'best friend' accepted nothing less. She went on in equal parts anger and confusion. "Shouldn't you be honoured to serve the Noble House of Black? How could you let the house fall into such disrepair? What would your _poor_ mistress say if she could see her proud home this way? Your master should toss you out!" She was rather cruel even in Sirius' opinion and Kreacher did look cowed for a second at the thought of being disowned – the greatest shame that could he placed on a house elf.

Harry gave Sirius a quizzical look, so he took a breath and turned to Kreacher. "Kreacher, prepare two bedrooms – that means clean them, so they're spotless." He didn't have much faith that Kreacher would do such a thing, but was mildly surprised to see him bow before leaving.

"You should have had him start in here."

"Well we'll be needing somewhere to sleep." She gave him a strange look. "I know it's a mess now, but it could be a nice home. New life in here might help chase away the past." He tried to joke lightly, but could see she was clearly uncomfortable with where this was going.

"You mean cover home?" She asked slowly.

"Well, we could stay here?" Harry quickly closed her eyes and focused inside. She'd come a long way in her mental arts training, but still had to concentrate really hard in order to tell whether Tom was engaging the link. To her immense relief it appeared they were safe. She cringed, thinking about what Tom would do if he heard Sirius talking like this.

"Sirius, I have a home. _We_ have a home!" She stressed.

"We could set up here. Away from the war and the… Death Eaters."

Harry rolled her eyes. "There is no war at home, just friends." She tugged his sleeve. "And family."

"Harry…"

"Sirius stop! Please." He heard the quiver in her voice and frowned. "If _he_ hears you…"

"He's not here. He doesn't even know where this house is – we'd be safe here."

"I _am_ safe. At home!" He took a breath, but his heart wasn't in it. If he truly wanted to keep Harry away he'd have told Dumbledore what was really going on. He hadn't said a thing, convincing himself it was for Harry's sake, that she would be crushed by such a betrayal, but deep down he was simply defeated. Besides, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep her from Him. It was Sirius who desperately didn't want to return, but he couldn't abandon Harry, and he knew he would never be able to hide from the Dark Lord forever, and the thought of that froze his soul. He couldn't even say she was in an unhealthy, damaging situation – unconventional sure, but he couldn't give her any better. He was only trying to keep her here out of a sense of duty and self-preservation.

When Sirius hesitated, Harry continued. "Sirius, I'm going home. I'd really, really, _really_ like you to come with me, but I'm going either way." He stayed silent. "Sirius please! I don't want to lose you. And… I love you, but I don't know what He'll do if you don't come back."

"Don't you think we should talk about that?" She shook her head. "Look, I'll come back. I never really thought you'd agree to stay here anyway." He laughed. "But I want to use this opportunity to talk, can't we at least do that?" Crossing her arms Harry fell back into a sofa, trying to ignore the puff of dust. He carefully sat on the opposite armchair, having no idea of what he actually wanted to say. In truth, he knew what he really wanted was the reason Harry and Voldemort were so close, so… not mortal enemies… Maybe he could trick her into telling.

"We're away from everyone here, so honestly, do you think its ok – the way He treats people? The things they do to muggles and muggleborns?"

"That's not really any of my business." She returned defensively. "I don't like muggles anyway. And mudbloods come from _them._ They try to ruin our culture and replace it with their own. They're a poison." He wanted to shout at her, to slap her even to snap her out of the indoctrination.

"That's understandable though isn't it? Imagine you were taken to a new world, where everything you knew was flipped on its head. Where you were told you had to dress a certain way and eat different things and learn a whole language specific to that place. Wouldn't you feel the need to cling to what you knew? Your culture is a part of who you are, you can't just toss it aside because your circumstances change."

"I know!" She said, not appreciating the feeling that he was talking down to her like she was stupid. "That's why we have to be stronger in protecting ourselves. Mudbloods will always want to change things just to make themselves feel better, so we have to stop them – at the very least stop them from taking positions of power." He wanted to hit himself this time: It was like talking to a Death Eater.

"What do you think your mum would say to you using that word?" Oh, she was really defensive now and scowled at him.

"Don't bring her into this Sirius. That's not fair!" That was the most childish thing he'd heard her say yet, and he was relieved to hear it. "Mum adjusted rather well, but if she'd been held to higher standards, maybe she would have had the strength to deal with her horrible sister the way she should have, or at least not allowed her to…" She cut herself off.

Sirius could clearly see her walls going up, but pressed on: If she was focused on herself he could use that. "What about you? Do you think its ok for the Dark Lord to treat you the way he does?" He was glad to see her thrown off a little at that. "Why does he get to control everything you do?" She rolled her eyes.

"He really doesn't. He certainly has better things to do than fuss about me. The Malfoys have way more control." She said bitterly, as any child would when talking about their parents. "But he's the only one who has always looked out for me, and whatever he does that you seem to have a problem with has always been for my benefit." Sirius couldn't deny that. "Draco hates his parents half the time, but that's just how things work. I'm _ten_ Sirius, if I didn't have guardians I'd run out and do stupid things like getting hit with a death curse." He almost laughed at the deadpan look, but parental responsibility wasn't what he was trying to get at here.

"But Harry, I'm your guardian now officially, maybe the Malfoys' in practice. It should be our responsibility to find you a home, so why is it His decision that you can't stay here?"

Harry stood and gave a look that told him exactly how foolish she though he was at that moment. "He's the Dark Lord: Lord trumps guardian." She explained as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well then what about me, Harry? He's done terrible, awful things to me. Are you ok with that?"

"Of course not! But Sirius, you were his enemy – maybe still are if you're talking like this, but I want you in my life, so what's he supposed to do?" She saw Sirius frown, but she couldn't explain to him the countless arguments with Tom about her godfather. Sirius was obviously punished sometimes, but she never saw him injured afterwards the way she did the Death Eaters, which meant Tom had him healed more quickly than them, and that could only be for her benefit.

"I'm going back now, are you coming?"

Sirius was going back, he'd been going back all along, and this conversation had been a waste of breath!

He stood, ready to follow her, when the front door closed heavily.

"Padfoot?" Harry stepped quickly to Sirius, concerned about the stranger in the house.

"We should go!" She whispered urgently, but her concern turned to confusion when Sirius broke into a wide grin.

"We're in here!" He called to Harry's dismay. What was he up to now? She just wanted to go home! "Harry, there's someone I want you to meet."

As soon as news broke that Sirius was innocent, Remus had sort him out to apologise for ever doubting him. It was wonderful – to finally have a friendly face in his life, someone who didn't want something from him. He just worried about how he could incorporate an old friend into his present situation.

Harry watched warily as the tired looking man stepped into the living room.

They only stayed for a further forty minutes or so, but it was only five before Harry lightened up and decided she would give this man a chance. Sirius and Remus were obviously close and it was heart-warming to see her godfather so happy, and Remus had that same familiarity she felt from him. She just wondered what Tom would say about having another Light wizard in her life.

* * *

As soon as she landed in her bedroom at Bleeding Wolf Lane, Harry took her godfather's hand and raced down to Tom's office, ignoring the protestations behind her. She flew into the room – without knocking – with a large smile.

Tom sighed heavily at the ceiling, before dismissing the two masked figures – fighting Harry really wasn't worth the hassle right now. She lunged at him and pulled him into a hug that would surely cause internal bruising.

" _Tom."_

" _Don't 'Tom' me."_ He said sternly, not wanting to let her off so easily.

" _I think you mean 'I missed you Harry, and I'm so glad to have you back.'_ " Harry didn't care whether she was in trouble at that moment, only that she was home.

" _I am."_ He conceded, raising his arms to hug her back, and after quickly glancing to make sure Sirius was knelling and therefore not watching, he closed his eyes – enjoying the moment Harry was finally back _safe_ and _alive_ in his arms.

Harry enjoyed the moment too. Hugs from Tom were rare, but were her favourite. She never felt safer or more cared for, even with Sirius. Everything Sirius had said back in London was inconsequential: She loved Tom and had accepted who he was a long time ago. And she knew Tom loved her.

She only ended the hug when she realised the memories of this afternoon were a little too clear. Oh crap, she thought, stepping back to see Tom's dark smile.

" _Oh crap, indeed. And to think I would have finally had a reason to reward him: He'd done so well."_ "Here Black." Tom commanded, pointing at the floor beside the arm chair he was settling into. Sirius made his way over easily, though his jaw clenched tightly at the next order. "On your knees." He reached down and patted Black's head like a dog. "Good boy." He could smell the blood that slowly rose from where Black's nails cut into his palm as he clenched his fists too tightly. "Such a good dog." He mocked.

Back only a few minutes and Harry was already glaring at Tom.

" _He was only trying to look out for me."_ She tried to defend.

" _Oh, I know, but such treachery cannot be ignored. He was trying to turn your head and fill you with doubt. Believe me, did he not foolishly believe he was doing so for your benefit, the consequences would be much, much more severe."_ He laughed at her scowl. _"Humiliation may be hard to stomach, so if you prefer I could think of another way to punish him?"_ He asked pleasantly, taking a light grip of Sirius' hair to shake his head a little, and already knowing he'd won. _"Good, now I can decide what on earth I'm to do with you."_ Her glared died and left uncertainty in its wake.

" _What do you mean?"_ She asked uneasily as she worried her lip.

" _You know very well what I mean. You know I don't appreciate when you try to keep things from me."_

" _I was trying to protect my godfather."_ Sirius flinched from Tom's sudden laugh.

" _From me!"_ Harry could tell he was angry and felt awful. She'd caused so many problems lately, and now she was basically lying to him. _"Black is responsible for his own actions, just as you are responsible for yours. Now go to your room and I'll see you about it later."_

" _What? No! I only just got back and I want to see everyone. And what about Sirius?"_

" _Sirius will remain here for the rest of the day."_ And now Harry felt even worse: she could only imagine how humiliating it would be for Sirius to be kneeling and petted like a dog beside Tom while Death Eaters came and went, but she guessed that was probably the point. _"Now Harry. Go to your room. I need to have a little chat with your pet."_

With a loud, dramatic huff, she left to obey – he hadn't said anything about being alone in her room, so if she happened to bump into someone on the way and told said person to invite all those she considered family to join her she would still be obeying…


	27. The Fight

Albus was beyond frustrated with Sirius. He'd supported his application to become Potter's guardian knowing it would allow him to stay close to her, but many months had passed and he'd only seen her twice. He could understand that Sirius was trying to keep her out of anything to do with the war so obviously looming but it wasn't like he was trying to recruit a ten year old to fight – he'd wait at least a few years for that, as long as he could stall Tom for that long. Although, it had disturbed him when Sirius told him not to rely on Harriet – there was something in the way he said it, like it was a warning, like he was certain the girl would not be joining his cause, not ever.

He could also understand Sirius hesitation in trusting him after everything the man had been through, but he should have come round by now for heaven's sake. Prison must have changed Black, because he would never have been able to stay so detached before, nor would he have been able to resist Albus' persuasive reasoning. Harriet was another matter altogether and it was becoming increasingly obvious she could hold a grudge. That would become a problem.

His efforts elsewhere weren't fairing any better. The MMR was passed as expected, and now every muggleborn, child or adult, had to register their name, address, place of work, wand… the list seemed arbitrary. Muggleborn children were being contacted as soon as they showed the first signs of magic, but there had been no reports of how that was going – it kept Albus awake at night. The more liberal side of society was becoming increasingly uneasy and there were more than just stirrings of civil unrest. On top of that he'd been forced into negotiating with the ministry, the result being that this year it would be down to the Department of Education to work with the board of governors to find a Defence teacher and a replacement for History and Divination. He'd had to give a little to stop them pushing their efforts to have muggleborns singled out at school. At least when school did begin this year he would finally have an opportunity to get to know Harriet Potter a little better. If she was the one destined to defeat Tom he needed to know what he was working with.

* * *

"Harry, we are not having this conversation again!" Tom rarely raised his voice to Harriet, but over the last few weeks their arguments were becoming more and more heated.

Things had been great for the first month or so after her return. The Death Eaters breathed a collective sigh of relief the second she'd arrived home, and just like that their lives were back to normal. Better even, because now the public knew they'd escaped Azkaban so they could move in certain circles without disguise, which certainly made it easier to get things done.

Harry's life hadn't quite returned to normal though. For the first month she was grounded at BWL, only going to Malfoy Manor for lessons. It was a strict in and out, without a minute of socialising in between! Since then things hadn't gotten much better: she could see her friends now, but only when they came over to Malfoy Manor and could only go out in the company of both Malfoy parents, which meant she didn't get to go out very often. She thought it was silly but knew she'd hurt Tom, so didn't hate him for being so cautious. Her charm bracelet had been unable to withhold the power of the curse and was destroyed, so she was given a replacement the day of her return. She'd only been back to Grimmauld place a few times – only when the old man had insisted on seeing her, and she took the opportunity to meet with Remus during those trips. Tom had told her of his curse, and at first she was disgusted and wanted nothing to do with him, but he was gentle and weary and so different from everyone she knew. Much to Tom's displeasure she decided to keep seeing him. She just tried to maintain her distance.

However, apart from nagging him about her freedom, Tom and Harry had been the same as ever. Until a few weeks ago.

It was the first time she mentioned attending Hogwarts come September and Tom had landed a massive blow, informing her she would not be going. At first she thought he was joking, but he'd persisted. She tried every argument she could think of to make him change his mind, starting with the obvious claim that her education would be irrevocably damaged. Tom easily dismissed this with claims he would hire the best tutors available in every subject, even setting more time aside to teach her personally, and she couldn't get a better education than that. However she just kept pushing.

The arguments started off more like debates, because she knew she had done wrong, knew he was doing what he thought was best for her. She wasn't naive: Tom was not a selfless man. The world he'd created around him moved to his whims, and everyone else's needs and wants came secondary to their master's. Harry didn't believe herself to be an exception to that, but she had grown used to her well-being being a priority on his list of wants. In reality it was almost as though her wishes came second to Tom's, so maybe that placed the others' in third.

Tom thought maybe that was the problem – that she'd grown too comfortable with the respect, consideration and obedience shown to her because of him. It was his own doing, of course. He was the one who taught her she was better than everyone else and he stood by that, but he was also very clear about his authority over her and until recently she'd accepted this arrangement, backing down when he put his foot down. Now she was pushing too far.

They fought every day, and she was getting braver and more insistent, forgetting herself and with just who she was speaking. Tom let much of it go, having become used to Harry's cheek, not wanting to discourage her fire and fooling himself into thinking a little lenience was in order after the horror she'd been through, but she was increasingly impudent and Tom had grown unaccustomed to dealing with such disrespect.

"Yes we are!" Tom took a long calming breath, but Harry didn't take notice of this tell-tale sign that his patience was running out. It had been a tiring day. Of all the nations he'd dealt with lately, Germany was proving the hardest to crack. They had strict laws concerning anything dark – being sensitive to the slightest whisper of anything that could indicate the rise of another Grindelwald, especially from England, from where the 'last' Dark Lord had risen. Germany was a powerful country, so his plans would fall to ruin if he couldn't get them on board. Today his sleeper cell – a last resort – had been discovered. They died fighting. "Everyone else is going! And you said yourself that its one of the most secure places in Britain – I'll be super safe there!"

"Harry that's enough!" Tom wasn't going to let Harry out of his reach again, especially not anywhere she'd be under the nose of that meddling old man. He hadn't been able to fool Dumbledore when he was at school, so there was no way Harry wouldn't give herself away, and then who knew what Dumbledore would do. He didn't even try to delude himself that he was being strategic by keeping The-Girl-Who-Lived from his enemy – he simply didn't want to lose her again. Also, while she was right that Hogwarts was safe from external threat, there was plenty within the castle wards that could do serious damage.

Harry ignored him. "You're being unreasonable! All my friends are going. Draco's going!" He scoffed scornfully, making obviously how little he thought of her friends, and how pathetic he found her argument.

"Then I shall be _reasonable_ and have them remain behind as well. Give me a list of names." He spoke with contempt, but was clearly serious. Harry merely rolled her eyes – she wouldn't do that to her friends.

"You're impossible!" She almost screamed in frustration, turning away and so missing how his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Lower you voice immediately! I will not allow this insolence to continue, Harry. Be warned." He ground out, just itching to draw his wand, and wondering whether it was time to start taking a firmer approach in dealing with his little monster. She wouldn't be little forever after all.

Harry felt the warning burn in her head, but unafraid she continued with a glare whilst trying to rub the pain away. "No, I won't!" She shouted, whimpering as the pain increased, but still determined to change his mind even as tears started to fall from her eyes. "It's not fair! You're ruining my life and you don't even care! You're just afraid! You're just a cowar…" She let out a scream and locked her knees so she wouldnt fall to the ground as the pain intensified along with the Dark Lord's anger.

"Desist!" He growled. "You dare speak to me that way? If you want me to show you what running your life would look like, perhaps I should throw you in the dungeons and deny you any education at all." It was an empty threat and even in the heat of the moment they both knew it.

"Go ahea… ahh!"

He stepped over and glared icily upon her shaking form.

Harry sobbed and whimpered pathetically, cradling her head and utterly powerless against the searing pain. "T-Tom, stop it!" She cried weakly through her sobs. It was unbearable, as though a great pressure was trying to force its way out, squashing her brain and pushing viciously and mercilessly against the inside of her forehead. "Ahh, please, Tom…" She pressed her hand harder, afraid her head might actually split open, while Tom merely watched on – her suffering, for once, doing nothing to alleviate his burning anger.

Suddenly she threw her hand out in defence, focusing all her magic on getting him to stop. Tom raised an eyebrow. Against him it was nothing but the nudge of a child, but for her age the power she wielded and the control she had over that power was immense. Later he would marvel in the pride he felt for her, but in that moment her defiance only served to fuel his anger.

"*You foolish little girl!*" He hissed, slipping into Parseltongue in his rage. He'd been more than generous, and yet she dared show such disrespect, and over Hogwarts of all things! She knew better.

She screamed again. Bending over in pain. "Tom, I, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please stop, please." Her begging was disgusting to him… he was disgusted that he was the one causing her to beg and that only served to anger him more. This was nothing, he thought.

Harry spun away from him as she tried curling up into herself, and that's when he saw it: Blood.

The red mist of his fury dissipated in less than a second, and suddenly he could think clearly again – suddenly he could _see_ her. His Harriet…

The pain ended and Harry took a few seconds to gather herself, before looking up with wide, fearful eyes. He hated that look. Her face was a mess from crying – she was ugly when she cried. He hated that too. Her scar was inflamed and blood dripped freely down her face. Her blood – blood that should never be spilled – blood _he'd_ spilled. His face was hard, not betraying a single emotion, while inside he battled with a flood of them: emotions he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before, and certainly not to this extent.

Harry only looked at him for a second, before forcing herself upright and fleeing the room. Apparently to the floo room, for he felt her leave the mansion shortly after.

He sighed as he raised a hand to his face. He tried to never regret mistakes, only learn from them, and he most certainly never entertained remorse. Remorse was a foreign concept to him, a strange affliction of the weak.

He glanced once more to the drops of blood on the floor and suddenly the room was in chaos – every single item flew from its place, caught up in the raging outburst of the Dark Lord's immense power as it flew in a maelstrom around the room. Things crashed into each other; months' worth of calculations and years of work and planning disintegrated, metal buckled and melted in the intensity of dark magic. All the while he let out a roar of pure anger, though it was an anger he'd never felt before: anger with himself.

His mind raced to rationalise his actions: Harriet Potter was his. His to protect or his to harm. He had every right to punish her for such challenging behaviour, and he'd have done much worse than cause a little headache were she anyone else. But every defence that crossed his mind felt hollow: they were all just a distraction.

Regret… Remorse… He felt sick.

He did punish Harry, and he would continue to do so, but he'd lost control and subjected her to a level of pain she should never be subjected to.

...He needed to kill something.

* * *

 **I hated writing this chapter lol.** **Seeing as this is Voldemort he barely hurt her, but still.**

 **Thanks for reading. Adore you guys xx**


	28. An Impossible Deal

Tom had left Harry alone at the Malfoy's for a few weeks. She tried to act as though everything was normal, but noticed the concerned glances shared by her adoptive parents. She didn't know what Tom had told them, but for once it seemed nobody else was being punished for her actions. Draco seemed at pains to cheer her up, which was a little odd, and Narcissa continued to make subtle attempts to find out when Harry would be going back to BWL – asking every so often whether Harry would be here for breakfast and the like. It was a farce as there was always more than enough breakfast to go round whether Harry was home or not. It was the start of summer, so she had more free time than usual, but still couldn't go out and was therefore quickly becoming bored to tears without the Death Eaters for company. Draco stayed home with her most of the time, and regaled her with tales of all the fun he got up to when he did leave. He meant well, but knowing what she was missing out on just made her miserable. Her pseudo-brother had nothing on her, nor did any of the other children she knew, so why should they get to have all the fun?

Tom had tried to talk to her once, the day after their fight. She'd screamed bloody murder that he go away, and to her surprise, he had. She was shaken up, angry, and most of all hurt. And though she tried to ignore it, without Tom she felt so incredibly alone. She sat on her bed, feeling lost in her own home. She loved and trusted Tom more than anyone. He was the one who made her feel safe no matter how menacing he was, and he'd betrayed that. Punishment and torture aside, she found it amusing when people cowered before Tom… She'd never believed she would be one of those people.

She was snapped from her spiralling misery by a knock at her door, and within seconds she was joined by two boys.

"Hey, father said you were hiding up here again." Draco and Theo dived onto the bed beside her, grinning like carefree children while she just stared at them blankly.

"Stop smiling!" She snapped, their good mood jarred harshly against her own and just made her feel worse. Their grins fell immediately.

"What's wrong?" Theo asked tentatively. She just shook her head and asked where they'd been, but they asked again. They were the ones most often around her and had grown tired of the constant moping.

"Oh come on! What's going on?"

"You're going to tell us eventually, so you might as well get it out of the way now. Maybe we can help." Harry scoffed at that.

"The Dark Lord and I just had a fight is all." She caught the look the boys exchanged and scowled in annoyance. "What?"

"Erm, nothing. So what did you do?" The boys sometimes wondered just what was going on in Harry's head. One did not fight with the Dark Lord and simply walk away.

Harry stood and spun to face them. "What did _I_ do?! Why did you assume it's my fault?" What did they know about anything?

Draco held his hands up in surrender. "Ok, Merlin! So then what happened?" She nodded, mollified for now. "Why haven't you gone back? Are you, um, are you afraid?" Draco was petrified every time he was called to the Dark Lord's headquarters, but Harry was always eager to go there – to her other home.

"Of course I'm not afraid of my best friend. And the others are a bunch of sweeties, even aunty Bella now she's ready to pop." _… and can't accidentally smother me with a hug,_ she left out. The boys looked incredulous at her choice of words. 'Sweeties'? They would have chosen adjectives altogether more pejorative. They snapped out of their disbelief when she continued: "Though I er," She hid a laugh behind her hand. Even she could see the crazy in what had happened. "I might have called Him a coward."

"What?!"

"Harry!"

"Harry, you have to go apologise! Beg forgiveness!" Nott cried, genuine fear and concern for her etched into his features.

"No way! He needs to apologise! He… reacted badly." She trailed off. Draco climbed from the bed, but didn't step up to her the way he wanted to.

"'He reacted badly'? Salazar, Harry! You must realise how lucky you are? You're the most protected person in the world and you take it for granted." Draco rambled on as he thought about all the awful things he and his family had suffered by the Dark Lord's hand.

Harry huffed. "You don't get it. He hurt me. I'm not talking to Him!" Her voice became small as she said it out loud for the first time. She still couldn't believe Tom had hurt her – really hurt her. She'd felt so afraid and weak and vulnerable, and it was all his fault.

She was surprised when Theo rolled his eyes and Draco scoffed loudly.

"He punished you Harry? Well what did you expect? _You_ don't get it. You're a bloody princess! You do something wrong and what? He ' _hurts'_ you? Grounds you? That's nothing! A slap on the wrist. If I showed your level of disobedience and defiance what do you think would happen to me? He'd kill me Harry! Maybe my parents too, and then only after torturing us!" Harry was a little taken aback by Draco's rant. She knew everything he said was true, but that didn't meant she could accept Tom doing anything of the sort to _her!_ Besides, she'd never let him kill any of the Malfoys…

Everything was quiet for a while before Theo finally spoke, taking over Draco's job of cheering her up – a job that he seemed to have temporarily abandoned.

"Why don't we go downstairs and see if we can sneak the brooms out?"

"You ready to go kiddo?" Sirius bounded into the lounge, excited as usual to be going out, even though after proving himself he'd been able to go out often as long as at least one Death Eater tagged along. One Death Eater could easily be subdued if Sirius met up with old friends, but at least Voldemort would know he'd betrayed him when his man never returned. So far Sirius had proven true to his word. The only Order member he would meet up with was the werewolf, and their conversation was never anything but casual.

Harry nodded and jumped down from her stool at the breakfast bar, grabbing an apple to take along with them. "What does he want this time?" She asked absently as they made their way to the floo.

They'd already made their way through the flames by the time he answered.

"Merlin knows, he probably…"

"Welcome back, Miss Potter." Sirius was interrupted by his mother's portrait. She hadn't been nearly as hospitable when they'd first met, but after a dressing down from Harry and a threat to have the Dark Lord come and burn her from her frame, she was much politer. Sirius despised her though, so Kreacher closed her curtain shortly after their arrival.

They took seats in the living room to wait for Dumbledore. Kreacher was old and tired, but had done a great job of cleaning the house, and with the new furniture and décor Sirius had brought in it felt like a different house entirely. It was the breath of fresh air he needed to bear being here for any length of time without wanting to blow the place up. There was an obnoxiously muggle and Gryffindor feel to the place, and Harry wondered if her godfather didn't have mummy issues.

It wasn't long until the door went and the muffled sounds of conversation reached Harry. Remus was with the old man – it did nothing to inspire faith in the werewolf.

Pleasantries were exchanged as Kreacher brought tea.

"The house looks incredible, Sirius." Dumbledore commented lightly. "Though it seems nothing ever changes. This room is a photo of the last few times I've been here. You used to be so insistently untidy." Harry's eyes narrowed at what wasn't being said: that the place looked unlived in.

"Kreacher's very good." She said slowly. "Why did you want to see us Mr Dumbledore?" He gave her an intense look over his spectacles, and Harry had to fight the urge to squirm until he leaned forward with a smile, taking a heavy envelope from his robes and handing it to her.

"It's a little unconventional, but I thought I'd take the opportunity to deliver your Hogwarts acceptance letter personally." Harry knew why this man was so eager to see her, knew the role she was expected to play, but it was just so damn difficult to pretend when she held him responsible for placing her with the Dursleys… as well as the fact he wanted to kill Tom – that was unforgivable.

Albus watched as she took the letter, curious of her reaction: she inhaled with an excited grin and breathed out with a defeated, sorrowful sigh.

"I er, I'm not sure I'll be coming to your school Mr Dumbledore." She took a little satisfaction in his genuine surprise, try though he did to hide it.

"Harry, I thought you were excited to go to Hogwarts?" Remus chipped in. He was also surprised, though his eyes reflected a weight of concern. Neither visitor seemed content with the half-hearted shrug she gave them.

Dumbledore took a guess as to the problem: "I know you are aware of the critical time in which we find ourselves, but I can assure you that student safety is a top priority for us." She bit back a laugh – this was her point exactly. Maybe she could get the old man put that down in writing for Tom.

"I'm perfectly safe here." She countered – if that's what he thought the problem was then she wasn't going to correct him.

"But it's no life, is it my girl?" She scowled at the pet name, "you've secluded yourself away since the attack. We mustn't let fear rule us Harry, lest we miss out on living."

The thing Harry hated most about what happened to her in Knockturn Alley was no longer the mess she'd made for Tom, or her resulting punishment, or even that she'd nearly died. No, what she hated most was that the entire world thought she had been helpless against a bunch of wizards who would apologise if _she_ bumped into _them._ Goddamn it, nobody could kill Harry, but Harry! She thought, raising her chin in a childish manner before remembering where she was and looking back down sheepishly.

"While you're at school, you needn't worry about what's going on elsewhere. Our aim is to provide a safe and supportive environment for young minds to prosper." He continued, and Harry agreed to think about it, if only to make him leave.

Albus took a cookie from the table, while everyone else sat in silence. The girl's attitude drove him crazy, because he couldn't find a way to get through to her.

"I notice you've taken my advice to stay away from the media." He commented in an attempt to initiate conversation. Harry just looked down. It was the only thing she could do to hide the way her jaw clenched. She hadn't given anymore interviews or comments because she didn't need or want to, not because the fool thought it best. No matter how many fans she had, no matter how many people publically agreed with whatever opinion she gave, there were people closer to home who despised her. Pansy's little sister Ivy had thrown out all her Luffman gowns after Harry Potter had sung the designer's praises in Witch Weekly. She completely understood where they were coming from and could sympathise, but it still hurt her feelings!

Dumbledore and Remus stayed for a further agonising hour and a half. The worse part came when Harry made a disparaging comment about Remus condition and the old wizard jumped to defend him by telling her the tale of how Remus came to be infected. It was the worst part because suddenly Harry felt sorry for the beast.

By the time they were done, Harry was more than ready to return to the sanctuary of Malfoy Manor, but it seemed a reprieve was not to be: Tom was there.

She walked into the family room in her search for Narcissa. She wanted to ask if she could call the girls for a sleepover, but that idea flew from her mind as she noticed the room's other occupants. She almost turned and left when she saw Tom conversing with Lucius – if he wanted to speak with the Malfoys he could have easily called them to him, which indicated that he'd gone out of his way to come here because of her, and she simply wasn't ready to see him yet. Before she had a chance to leave however, her gaze slipped past Tom to the man standing beside Lucius: Greyback!

With an icy glare she marched past the others and shoved the werewolf alpha hard, and then followed up with a weak punch to his broad chest. He stumbled back in shock whilst holding up his hands – with Voldemort standing right there it was best to make clear he wasn't retaliating or even touching the girl his master protected with a rage to rival the gods.

"You arse! How could you do that?" Harry growled out as she thought of what she'd learnt not an hour ago. And ok, maybe all those emotions brought up by seeing Tom were fuelling her a little too. She shoved him again and he looked to the Dark Lord for help, but Voldemort just watched on with indifference, even though inside he was curious as to what on earth had gotten into his Harriet.

"What…" Fenrir tried, but was swiftly cut off.

"How could you do that to a child?" She hissed. She had no idea what Tom was thinking, working with the werewolves! Tom was glad to see she at least remembered that she was untouchable: even if she'd somehow discovered Greyback's preference for young blood, she clearly had no concerns for her own safety. "You can't go around infecting children! That's… awful." She punctuated with another hit.

"I, er…" Fenrir glanced back to Voldemort, unsure of just what he was supposed to say. Any defence he gave would only rile the girl up, and any apology would be utterly insincere. He let out a quiet sigh of relief when his Lord finally stepped in and nodded to the door – giving him the dismissal he needed to make his getaway.

Harry huffed as she watched the werewolf flee. Seeing Dumbledore always darkened her mood and she thought she'd feel better after confronting the man responsible for condemning Remus, but when Tom turned away to continue his talk with Lucius her scowl returned with force. He was ignoring her! If anyone should be doing any ignoring it should be her, she thought.

She forced her chin up and started to walk out, but her irritation could not be quelled.

"… almost certain your negotiations were to be concluded by midnight last." Tom said with a dark threat in his voice. Lucius kept his head bowed and was about to apologise and explain himself when Harry interrupted with a loud 'Pfft'. She saw Tom's jaw twitch, but he remained focused on Lucius. Her annoyance only rose as he continued to ignore her, until eventually she couldn't hold it in any longer.

She scoffed. "Well, listen to Mr big bad Dark Lord." Sarcasm was heavy in her words– she knew Tom never permitted any disrespect for his position as the Dark Lord and that it was therefore certain to provoke him. The shocked gasps of the Malfoy parents were ignored.

Harry could only enjoy her victory for a second after he finally turned to her, freezing her in place with those sharp eyes. All her anger and irritation and annoyance vanished in an instant and left her winded. Narcissa saw the moment her charge snapped back to reality and watched on with mounting dread. It was obvious the girl was trying to get Voldemort's attention – even with her confrontation with Greyback, but what was she thinking provoking him like that? Well she'd succeeded, but now looked like she regretted it immensely.

"Is there something you want to say to me?" He asked dangerously as he walked slowly across the room to where Harry stood.

"M-My Lord…" Narcissa tried to intervene.

"Silence!" He hissed, effectively shutting down her attempt to mitigate, but not having time to punish her for daring to try. He came to a stop less than a step in front of Harry. "Well?"

The room was quiet and far too still as Tom and Harry stared at each other; him with a piercing glare that made it difficult to think, and her with a trembling lower lip and wide eyes that he noticed were not filled with fear alone, but also anguish.

The nerve-wracking silence stretched on until Harry finally cracked under the intensity of his gaze and let the first tears fall.

"I can make my own choices! You don't get to decide! I'm going to school!" She suddenly cried loudly without taking a breath, before running for the door.

"I said no!" Tom shouted, but made no attempt to go after her.

Harry didn't stop running until she reached her bedroom, where she quickly dived onto her bed to cry.

Tom stayed in place, paralyzed with uncertainty. He wanted to go after her, to make her regret speaking to him that way, but something held him back – some small niggling feeling eating its way through his resolve. It was a feeling he'd been trying to kill since his fight with Harry a fortnight ago – a foreign feeling that had no place affecting him and for which he had no use…

He wanted to make things right. Harry shouldn't be sad or in pain and he'd gone out of his way to ensure she never had to be, but she'd pushed too far… He'd stayed out of her head for the most part, but the few times he had taken a look he'd been swept up in her spiralling sorrow. Regret and remorse. He hated them with a fiery passion, but couldn't keep denying that's what had been gnawing away at him.

If he'd realised anything over the last six months, it was that his own ambitions weren't enough anymore. He wanted power and respect for his own sake, but somewhere along the way, through all his efforts not to get too close, he'd come to want it for Harry too. He didn't just want the world anymore; he also wanted to give her a world to conquer when she grew up.

A few hours later Harry had finally calmed down, but was stuck in her mind as melancholy and self-pitying thoughts drowned her. She was still angry with Tom, but also couldn't believe she'd challenged him like that in front of other people, even if it was only the Malfoys. She sat on the edge of her bed, imagining what kind of trouble she was in now, but also feeling some satisfaction. Mostly though she was still crushed.

There was a sharp knock at her door.

"Go away!" She didn't want to see anyone right now, and so frowned when the door opened anyway. Shock was evident on her face when Tom stepped into her room. It was quiet for a few seconds, before Tom sighed.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, and Harry had to turn away to hide her jaw as it dropped to the floor in disbelief. Maybe she was dreaming – since when had Tom ever apologised to anyone?

Still looking away, she found her voice. "You hurt me." Her voice was quiet as she said the only thing she could think to say.

"I know." He stepped in further and cautiously sat beside her, as if expecting her to lash out. It only took a moment or two before he heard Harry sniff and raise her head.

Still unable to meet his eyes Harry spoke again, this time with more confidence. Nothing had really happened, but she suddenly felt more comfortable around him again. You could take comfort in knowing an apology is sincere when it comes from someone who never apologises. "Sometimes I think you're actually part werewolf, and that's why you wanna kill things so badly." He sighed and rolled his eyes: She was definitely feeling better if she was testing the waters; trying to get a reaction from him. She wouldn't dare test the most powerful wizard in the world while sitting mere inches from him unless she was confident he wouldn't really hurt her.

"Is that so?" He asked dryly.

"Yes. It would explain why you're working with an animal like Greyback."

"He's useful." Harry just shrugged at his response and he sighed again, rubbing a hand across his face. "Harry, I said I'm sorry. I'll not say it again." His tone was firmer this time, but not threateningly so. "I had a bad day."

Finally she turned to face him. "We all have bad days Tom." He wanted to defend himself against that – to explain that to him a bad day meant months of planning going to waste, or people dying, but decided that wasn't really important right now.

"I suppose we do." She looked away again, before shifting slightly so she was leaning against him, and before he could think he brought up his arm to wrap around her. It was ridiculous, he told himself; so disgustingly pathetic and _weak,_ but still, he felt at peace as they sat together.

"Then I guess," Harry grumbled almost under her breath, "I'm sorry too."

"Well you better be." He replied with a small smile and a squeeze.

After a while they settled back into their usual chatting, until Harry finally worked up the courage to ask about Hogwarts.

"Are you really not going to let me go?" She asked with a quiet seriousness. Tom frowned as he considered the weight of what he was about to say.

"I'll let you decide Harry: you can stay home, where you will be safe and have the best education available, or you can go to Hogwarts, but if you choose the latter there will be a condition – something you must do first, and once you hear it I believe you'll choose to stay." Worrying her lip about what he could possibly be about to say, she nodded for him to continue.

"What's the condition?" Given the grave look in his eye, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"You have to kill someone."

 **A much longer chapter than usual, but I wanted to resolve this in one go. ;)**

 **xx**


	29. Life

Harriet's birthday was a beautiful day. Ok, it was her fake birthday, a week into August, but it was still beautiful and bright, though she couldn't quite make herself enjoy it. Instead, hidden behind 'Henrietta' she watched her friends with a small smile. They seemed so carefree, and while she was truly happy for them, she couldn't help but feel a little envious. Most of the girls claimed to be too mature to play around in the lake, though of course they did so quite often. The boys however didn't seem to have any hang-ups about jumping right in, creating boisterous games and finding new ways to aggravate the girls.

Compared to her friends' eleventh birthdays, her party was a small affair. Of course she had to avoid doing anything to end up in the society pages, and hosting a party for the rich and influential would surely land her there. It was bad enough when she made it in as part of group photos, but she didn't need the kind of scrutiny being the focus would bring. It was bad enough that she'd had to explain to her friends how she would be attending a school out of the country – of course Henrietta couldn't go to Hogwarts because Henrietta didn't exist! She dreaded saying goodbye to them, only to see them all again at school as a potential enemy.

School. She wasn't sure how she even felt about it anymore. She wanted to go, but the price of admission was weighing heavily on her. After Tom had explained he would only let her leave if she created a Horcrux, she'd agreed, thinking it couldn't be that difficult – most of the people she knew had killed. Now she was actually faced with the reality she wasn't so sure, and she'd started noticing more lately – the way people's eyes shone when they laughed, the way faces could change in a thousand ways during a single conversation, the way the breeze moved their hair about. She noticed how different sensations felt and affected her own body; how the sun felt again her skin and how the water pruned her fingers and even the way ice cups hurt when she held them in her bare hand. It just seemed so sad to take that away from someone. And what if that someone had family and friends? What if she killed someone's mum or dad and left some poor child with no one – like her.

Tom had offered to find someone for her – someone she didn't know or care about and even promised to make sure they wouldn't be missed: a tramp, he'd suggested. That just made her feel worse. Surely someone so down and out in life had already been through enough.

She could tell Tom knew how much he was asking of her, and that maybe he would have preferred her to turn him down and stay home. The look on his face when she'd agreed, however fleeting it had been, made her think he never actually believed she would. All the same he was trying to make this easier for her. He didn't completely understand her problem, but indulged it anyway, because he'd always known she wasn't like him and he was uncomfortable with the idea that this might change her. He'd tentatively asked whether she'd prefer to kill her uncle, but she'd shut that down right away. She didn't ever want to see her family again, nor know where they were or how they were – that was too close to home. He tried to make it easier, tried to make it harder, he'd even tried joking about the whole affair – which was actually the way he would have dealt with it. Even after she acquired her wand, Harry was too young to use the killing curse – that level of dark power would just drive her mad – so he'd given her a knife, nice and simple, and told her to just kill the first person who annoyed her. She'd responded by telling him _he_ was annoying her, but took the knife anyway.

"Why are you sitting here by yourself?" Narcissa asked as she sat beside her on the bench. Instead of answering, Harry leaned over and hugged the woman tightly, just needing the comfort at that moment.

Narcissa held her for as long as she needed it. She'd seen how different Harry had been lately – there was a darkness hanging over the girl, but she wouldn't tell anyone what was wrong. Harry had been distracted and perturbed and she'd been that way since the day following her confrontation with the Dark Lord. There had never been any sign He'd ever hurt her before, even though she was no doubt insubordinate. All the time. But without anything else to go on she had to assume He'd punished her that night and Narcissa's heart went out to her when she thought of what she must have gone through.

Eventually her friends dragged her into the fun and games and she tried to put her murderous thoughts from her mind and simply be a child who didn't have to worry about secret identities and wars and manipulative old men or killing.

* * *

Harry didn't exactly have exposure to many people, so trying to decide whose life she would end in cold blood, for her own benefit was difficult. While she walked through Diagon Alley, shopping for school supplies with the werewolf and her godfather (and several Death Eaters hidden within the crowds), she played with the idea of Remus as a candidate. He was a beast once a month and she could tell his life was rather miserable because of his infection. He was so sad and lonely and Sirius told her he had to survive on terrible jobs that constantly changed as he moved to hide his condition. As far as she knew he had no family to miss him and it wasn't like his future prospects were bright. She thought maybe she would be doing him a favour by freeing him from such an existence. But he was just so nice to her. He had such a comforting, almost loving way about him that she just couldn't imagine hurting him. In fact if she wasn't so disturbed by the idea of 'catching' lycanthropy she would embrace him into her life.

She walked beside Sirius, Remus on the other side of the man – just in case.

"Hey Remus." Both men turned to her. "Erm, if you had the opportunity to kill Greyback, would you do it?" They stopped walking; the look of shock on their faces would have been funny if her thought process wasn't so serious.

"Where did that come from?" Sirius asked carefully. He understood and accepted that she'd been raised with the ideals of the Dark, but werewolf or not, Greyback was an ally of the Dark Lord, and even if he wasn't he didn't think she was about to sign up for murdering 'tainted' blood anytime soon.

Harry shrugged, trying not to make this seem like a big deal. Tom had said the werewolf Alpha was useful, but she didn't doubt for a second he wouldn't hand him over if she decided he was the one she wanted to kill. Hopefully tied up, because Greyback was a big man.

"I was just thinking: he ruined your life and wants to go on to ruin others' – taking decent witches and wizards out of circulation…" Remus couldn't hide his wince as she spoke as though he was nothing, that he had no value since being bitten. He just couldn't understand where her attitude had come from – certainly not Sirius. "and apparently he likes to infect them young so they can be raised as werewolves and not wizards…" She was rambling, and he could only hope it was because she had doubts about what she was saying, though he didn't think that was it. "so if anyone deserves to die, it would be someone like him, right? I mean, wouldn't you want revenge?"

"I, er, well yes. Greyback attacked me before I was five; he's certainly not a good man. I'd like to see him taken down, like to see him prevented from causing further harm."

"You know Harry," Sirius stepped in, mortified that she continued to spout her prejudice when Remus was right there. "His life is only 'ruined' because so many people allow fear to blind them. He's only a wolf once a month and yet you treat him as though he'll change and maul you to death at a moment's notice!"

Harry was caught off guard by the unexpected attack. She was talking about Greyback and had assumed they could all at least agree the world would be a better place without him! Instead her beloved godfather had made her feel ashamed and so she responded to that shame the best way she knew: she glared.

"I'm going to buy my wand. You two can wait here!" She commanded, leaving no room for argument. She made it half way across the street before spinning to march back. "I need money." She said with an open hand, and with a pointed sigh Sirius dropped the gold coins into it.

"How did she get like that?" Remus asked as he watched her storm into Ollivander's.

Sirius placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Inside the shop, Harry suffered through the old wand maker's incompetence for over half an hour before he finally placed the correct wand in her hand and she cheered right up when he informed her it was the brother wand to Tom's. She couldn't have been happier with the outcome, though it did raise some concerns: Tom's wand had killed so many people – would hers do the same? Was she destined to be a killer?

"Well, that's just perfect." Tom said with a smirk as he inspected her wand, while Harry grinned proudly. He handed it back before taking a seat gracefully. She wondered how he did that, how he could make every movement appear choreographed and effortless.

His next words were spoken carefully: "You only have a few weeks left, you realise?" Her grin faltered a little. "Any thoughts?"

"I think Barty's great, now that he's not so edgy. He turned Rab's hair bright yellow for me – he looks like a Malfoy now."

"Harry…" He sighed.

"I don't know." Her voice was much quieter now – she even looked smaller. "It's a shame you already took care of Pettigrew. I'm sure he would have been easy." It had crossed her mind that the thought of killing Peter Pettigrew was only easy because there was no possibility of that actually happening. Tom believed her parent's treacherous friend was going to crack under Dumbledore's questioning and swiftly had him killed before he was able to do so. She hadn't lost any sleep over it.

"What about Greyback?" She continued. "I don't like him. And you shouldn't be working with the werewolves anyway!" The hard, disapproving frown she sent him made him smile. "He attacks witches!"

"I told you he's useful, and it would anger the werewolves, but you can have him if you want. Anyone else to consider?"

She fell unceremoniously onto the sofa, lying splayed out across it while she stared at the ceiling for inspiration. "I don't know. Maybe one of Lucius' business associates – they're always quite annoying. Or Dumbledore: I could get him with a poison arrow or something." Tom laughed quietly – if only it was so easy to take out that particular obstacle to his plans.

"What about your wand?"

"Hmm?" He questioned absently while secretly imagining Dumbledore's death a thousand different ways.

"For the Horcrux. It would be safe: it's always with you and you wouldn't let anything happen to it, would you?" Finally taking notice of her change in subject he looked across to her.

"That's not a good idea. My wand channels a lot of powerful, dangerous magic and I'm not sure how that would affect the piece of your soul."

"Well what about something inconspicuous then, like a milk top, or like a really rare chocolate frog card." She was crazy, he thought.

"No and no. You don't want something easily lost. Try again." She huffed and glanced around the room.

"Well what about art?" She asked as she considered what she only just noticed was a rather gruesome painting above the fireplace.

"That… could work. Nobody would question a priceless work of art being protected with heavy enchantments and curses, nor would they attempt to destroy it in a raid or theft. And it could be hidden in plain sight and easily accessible – if we chose to keep it nearby." Glad to have finally found a winner, she sat up.

"What about that little bird in Draco's parlour? It's really pretty." Tom raised an eyebrow.

"The Goldfinch painting? Harry, it's chained to its perch." He was pretty sure that wasn't her style.

"It is?"

"How do you avoid noticing such things in your own home? Very well, I'll ask Lucius if we can borrow it." She scoffed, sure that Lucius would be eager to think his Lord was impressed or appreciative of his wealth and possessions. He'd probably want to bring over his more expensive items too – Merlin knows he had enough of them!

* * *

A week later Harry was getting worried that she wouldn't follow through with what she'd agreed to do, and so with a healthy amount of fear regarding what she would find, she made her way down to the dungeons for the first time ever. There were no off-limit areas to Harriet, she simply never wanted to come here before. She was sure that anyone to be found down here would die eventually anyway, so felt she couldn't really take away something that was already lost.

She'd only passed the first cell when someone reached out and tried to grab her. With a high yelp she quickly jumped away and hurried along, making sure to stay in the middle of her path. A great many of the cells were hidden by a darkness between the bars – a total absence of light that cut off any possibility to see what was within. Shuddering, she tried not to think of who might be in there, or in what condition they might be. Whatever it was must have been something that would upset her for Tom to have covered it up – something he would only have done so she wouldn't be exposed to it.

"Harry?" The weakened voice made her spin round to the cell to her right. Within was a thin man with black hair, almost black eyes and an unkempt, scraggly beard, though she supposed they all did down here. She eyed him warily.

"How do you know my name?" She asked cautiously, not moving any closer even though the man's wrists were chained to a ring on the floor.

"I saw you before – when you were cursed – I brewed the potion to stop and draw out internal bleeding..." His voice was hoarse and she imagined he hadn't spoken to anyone for a while. She felt awful for him and stepped a little closer. "Don't pity me, Harriet Potter! I know what's coming and I've accepted it."

"Why are you here?" His Dark Mark was clearly visible upon his arm, but she was sure she'd never seen him before. She was also certain that Tom wouldn't condemn a man who'd helped save her life without good reason.

His lips twisted into a small defeated smile. "I betrayed the Dark Lord." He watched her eyes narrow sharply. "In a moment of desperation I turned to his enemy and I've been trapped ever since."

"Dumbledore? How could you do that?" Her words were sibilant and the effect was deeply unnerving. There was only one person who'd ever sounded that way without forming a single 's' sound, and even then only when he was angry, just as Harry clearly was right now. It bothered him greatly.

"I did it to protect someone, though I realise now that was foolish: no one lives once the Dark Lord decides he wants them dead. Well, apart from you." He studied her hardened face. "You seem to be doing quite well here. How strange."

She crossed her arms. She was angry at this man for betraying Tom, but couldn't completely kill her sympathy for him. One moment he looked so broken and the next his eyes shone with that light that reflect _life._ "You shouldn't believe everything you read in the papers. I am doing well, and _I_ would never betray Him." Her voice was low but strong with the surety of her words.

"And you don't care that he killed your parents?" He couldn't stop himself – couldn't believe this was what Lily died to protect. Harry reached out and swung open the door with ease before marching in a little way.

"You don't know anything! Not about me, or my parents, or the Dark Lord!"

"Oh I know enough. It was for your mother's sake I switched sides!" That stumped the angry little girl before him. Those bright eyes and the fiery attitude reminded him so painfully of Lily near the end, and the look on her face now was so similar to how Lily had looked in the beginning, when they first became friends.

Over the next half hour he shared an edited history of his life – starting and ending with Lily. He hardly mentioned James Potter. By the time he was finished Harry was sitting on her knees in front of him, eager as ever to hear about her parents, even if she did already have a more positive view of them from Sirius.

"You know I can't get you out of here, right? Not after you betrayed Him." Harry thought betrayal was the worst thing you could do to a person, and knew Tom would never forgive such an act.

Snape said nothing, but eventually his wry laugh cut through the silence.

"What's funny?" Harry didn't look at him as she spoke quietly into the cold-feeling room.

"I – I made a promise, an oath, to protect you, but it seems I needn't have bothered –our positions have been reversed." She turned to him with pity shinning in her eyes. He scoffed. "I'm fine, I told you, I've accepted my fate."

"But you promised to protect me?" She whispered.

Snape only had a second to realise what was going on before Harry lunged forward and plunged her knife deep into his chest. He watched her stumble back – shocked at her own actions. Maybe this was the way things were always going to end: a cruel life; sacrificing his dreams and freedom for an unrequited love; and finally killed by the child he lived to protect. And he never even learned why Harriet was with Voldemort.

He couldn't know that with his death he was protecting her in far greater a way than he ever could in life.

Harry couldn't feel the cool stone beneath her. She couldn't hear the awful gurgling sounds filling the room. She couldn't see that amazing gleam leaving Snape's eyes. All she could process was the blood on her trembling hands as a single note filled her mind, getting louder and louder until she had to move, scuttling backwards out of the cell where she forced herself up on weak legs.

Her whole body shook violently, but she finally looked upon the body. And her senses snapped back into focus.

"Help!" She tried to scream, but it came out as a broken whisper. "Help…"

She didn't know how long she stood like that – it could have been a minute or an hour – when her attention was caught by the sound of footsteps.

"Harry, what on earth are you doing down here? Well…" Tom sounded put out, but when she slowly turned to him, shaking and terribly lost with bloody hands, his face became blank and emotionless. Wrapping an arm tightly around her shoulders, he started to lead her back upstairs.

"It's ok Harry." The reassurance was very much welcome, because she still believed Tom could make everything better. He would never abandon her, even if she did something awful, even if she… "I came to tell you that Bellatrix had her baby. Why don't we get cleaned up and go see her? And then we'll deal with this later." She nodded numbly and grabbed a handful of his robes, suddenly feeling like that little girl from years ago.

 **I know: Life and death cliché, but I couldn't resist ;)**

 **Also I'm sorry to any Snape fans!**


	30. Life Goes On

"… and then there's the chance I'll be placed in Gryffindor because my parents were and everyone expects me to go there, but I want to be a Slytherin because I bet all my friends will be in Slytherin – all their families were, or a lot of their families were – and my friends will hate me if I'm in Gryffindor, or, I mean, they'll hate me even more than they will anyway because I can't tell them who I really am, so then I'll be on my own completely and I know you've ordered Draco and Theo to make sure I'm ok, but they'll both be sorted before I am so I won't even have them, and I just know I'll be surrounded by mudbloods, and who did you say the Head of Gryffindor is again? McGonagall right? So I wouldn't even have… hey are you listening?"

Harriet paused in her fretful monologue when she finally noticed Tom hadn't once looked up from the map of North America he seemed to be giving his full attention. He looked across to her and gave a forced smile.

"I was waiting for you to take a breath." He told her, obviously irritated but also undeniably amused, which made Harry pout because he obviously wasn't taking her concerns seriously.

He wasn't worried. To say he'd 'ordered' her two friends to make sure she was ok while at school was an understatement. He'd made them personally responsible for Harry's mental and physical wellbeing, and made sure they understood how grateful he would be to see their efforts succeed, as well as making clear to the trembling boys just how displeased he'd be should they fail. It was unfair, he knew that: they were just useless children who could hardly protect her, and he knew all too well that Harry's mind couldn't be stilled by them, but still, at least now he was certain they'd do their damnedest to try. Besides, he now had four members of Hogwarts staff under his command, so she'd never be far from help should the need arise.

Narcissa was taking up the History role; she was far from happy as it would take her out of Society for the better part of the year, but she didn't really have a choice so consoled herself with the knowledge she'd be able to watch over her baby. Draco was even less pleased with this arrangement! Divination had been tasked to a low rank, but enthusiastic follower named Aehart: he could be trusted. Potions was given to a man easily recruited from Durmstrang – let them deal with the headache of finding another potions master willing to teach (and they were rare!). Gabor had a reputation as an accomplished master and a fierce fighter. And finally Defence was filled by one of Tom's aurors named Moore. Tom could only imagine what the old man made of all this. Maybe he could kill Dumbledore with stress.

"You shouldn't worry so much. Draco and the Nott boy will handle your classmates, and every House has a proud, respectable history. Any would only be enhanced by your presence." Harry rolled her eyes at his attitude, though of course she loved how he could always make her feel so special.

"Are you sure?"

"When am I ever wrong?" The self-assured smirk made her smile and she finally collapsed into a chair in relief.

"Ok." She breathed out.

He waited a beat before speaking again.

"Seriously though, if you aren't sorted into my own house I _will_ disown you." Her mouth dropped open for a few seconds, before she let out a huff and threw her nose up at him.

Satisfied she'd finished worrying for the time being, Tom stood and continued teaching her basic hexes. She'd been taught an extensive understanding of magical theory and wand usage over the last year, so putting that into practice was relatively easy, and he'd be damned if he sent her away without a way to protect herself from the ignorant children. Her wandless magic would be there if she really needed it, but it wouldn't do to draw attention.

He was pleased that she didn't fight him about learning the more painful hexes. They'd transferred the broken piece of her soul the day after she'd killed Snape, and while he didn't think the separation had affected her, the splitting - the murder certainly had. She'd grown up around pain and death, and so found such things relatively normal, but doing the deed herself had obviously deeply upset something within her. For the most part she was her old self with Tom, but in the company of anyone else she hardened herself, and while he welcomed this, he wasn't entirely convinced it was permanent – or indeed stable. All the same with her current progress she'd be strong enough to handle the Unforgivables in just a few short years. His little monster was fast growing into her name.

* * *

Harriet had changed. Draco wasn't the only one to notice. She was less affectionate now, and much less tolerant and the Malfoys were relieved that school was only days away because they felt they were walking on eggshells around her. She'd cast the bat-bogey hex at Lucius and when asked why she'd done it she replied she was just practicing. The parents knew their Lord had been teaching her so felt rather powerless to curb this new behaviour. Draco didn't think she was trying to be cruel – just simply didn't care anymore.

"You should apologise to father." Draco told her with a frown – a frown that only deepened when she shrugged in response.

"Why?" They were sitting in Draco's room, mostly to hide from Narcissa's fussing. Draco was repacking his school trunk for the third time that week; unable to decide which clothes he would need over the next three and a half months. Harry was tearing last week's quidditch magazine into thin even strips.

"Why?!" He repeated in disbelief. "What's wrong with you? Merlin, I feel like I don't even know who you are anymore." She didn't look up – this general apathy annoyed him more than any shouting could have.

"Well, maybe you don't know me Draco." There was something like hurt in her voice, but she wasn't offering any defence or explanation.

"Then _tell_ me. What's changed?" He truly did want to know. At moments like this he thought maybe she'd been through something awful, but at other times he thought she was just being a spoiled bitch – though of course he would never dare say such a thing – or even think it too loudly.

Harry stood. She didn't want Draco digging, didn't want him to know what she'd done, because even though she doubted he'd see it as such a big deal having never done such a thing himself (or even seen such a thing), saying it out loud made her feel like a terrible person. She didn't want to lose her brother.

"I grew up. Maybe you should too." Wanting him to back off, she changed the subject. "Do you want to go out somewhere? I'm sure I can find someone willing to accompany us."

Draco scoffed loudly. "I'm sure you could." She basically had every Death Eater not actively on a mission at her disposal! "But I'm fine here."

Harriet took a deep breath. She had no idea why Draco was being so difficult. Sure, she had hexed his dad, but she'd hexed almost everyone lately… and it's not like she'd hit him with one of the more painful variety of spells she knew.

Without saying another word she reached for her necklace and disappeared.

Tom supressed his sigh when Harry walked into his office _again_ – ignoring the two other men sitting with him – and threw herself unceremoniously onto the couch by the fire, lying back to stare at the ceiling. Lestrange and Avery paused in their discussion, and then sat a little straighter when their Lord frowned before waving a hand for them to continue.

There were two things that most gave away the change in Harriet; the most annoying was that she was always around. It had gotten to the point where he often had to have meetings while she was in the room. Tom was trying to be understanding, but whatever it was she was going through was incredibly inconvenient. The first phase of his plan would be set into motion soon, and just as these things always did, there were a million last minute emergencies to deal with. With her sudden clinginess keeping the truth from her was impossible and at first his followers questioned whether a child, even if it was Harry, could be trusted with things so world changing, but after a stern reprimand they'd quickly gotten used to her presence and carried on as normal. Their master was generally more tolerant when she was there anyway.

The other give-away was that she hadn't cried.

Gods any and all help him – Harriet was definitely a crier! So her lack of tears since killing Snape was telling. He still really hated the crying, but knowing it was coming made him uncomfortable – he'd rather just get it over with! He also worried she'd have a breakdown of some kind at school and that would open a whole host of questions for Dumbledore to sink his teeth into. He'd warned the boys and his followers to keep an eye out for anything but didn't have much faith in their ability to deal with this. More than once he'd considered killing Sirius – he really didn't know how else to help than to push her over the edge somehow, to force the tears and whatever else out. Unfortunately he understood that was a short-term solution that would create a much bigger, more lasting problem.

Harry listened for a while to the men discussing some giant crystal that had been cracked in China. It was boring, but Harry just couldn't settle. Eventually she pulled herself upright and aimed her wand at Avery's back.

Before she could even open her mouth to speak the incantation, her wand flew from her hand and she found it resting in Tom's own. The Death Eaters fell silent as they felt annoyance rolling form their master.

" _Harriet."_ He said firmly, while she just looked at him innocently. _"What on Earth made you think it was acceptable to attack anyone during a meeting?"_ He was actually quite angry – if anyone else had tried to do such a thing they'd find themselves unable to move for a week. He was used to her antics, and to his followers being dragged into her fun, but until very recently she was discreet and respectful in making sure it didn't affect him.

" _You told me to practice."_ Harry replied lightly, while the other two men present stayed frozen in place. They didn't know what was going on, but it clearly had to do with Harry.

Keeping his cold, hard eyes fixed of her as he tapped her wand rhythmically against the table top, he reached his spare hand out toward Avery. "Your arm, Avery." Harry watched with a growing sense of suspicion as he used her wand to summon someone. She knew better than to cause trouble when there was work to be done, but there was an itch beneath her skin she just didn't know how to scratch and it was making her crazy. The few minutes that passed felt agonisingly long, and Tom was pleased to see her finally start worrying at her lip as she imagined she was in trouble.

It didn't last though, and she smiled lightly as Barty entered the room and kneeled before Voldemort.

"Rise, Barty." Harry liked Barty; he was great fun to be around. In fact just that morning he'd added chilli powder to Rookwood's breakfast eggs. Harry, along with everyone else present, had laughed hard at the unfortunate man's shocked and pained reaction. That was, until Harry herself had nearly choked on her own eggs and the room was calmed instantly by a deceptively soft word from Voldemort.

"Harry here is feeling a little restless." He told Barty, ignoring how Harry glared at him for talking about her like she wasn't there. "If convenient, I wondered if you wouldn't mind helping her train: her shields are woefully lacking." Barty of course agreed to assist her.

" _My_ _Protego is fine!"_ She defended silently, but as she was bored didn't see the harm in blowing off a little steam. She and Barty moved to leave when she heard Tom speak again.

"And Barty," He said with a smile she didn't quite trust, "Don't go easy on her, I'd like to see progress." She trusted Barty's smile even less.

Over the next two hours he fired spell after spell at her, and in the end she could acknowledge the difference in the amount her shield was able to withstand before breaking. She was also marginally faster in casting it. She wouldn't be admitting any of this to Tom, of course.

Harry panted from exertion as she lay on her back. She was covered in minor cuts and bruises, but grinned up at Barty as he leaned over her. He held out his hand but before she could take it he cried out and fell to the floor under what Harry easily recognised as the torture curse. She jumped up in shock, thinking Tom had joined them and decided Barty had pushed too far, but found Bella instead.

"Aunty Bella! Stop it." She called angrily. The spell was immediately cut short, but Bella's wand strayed on Barty while those deep chocolate eyes scrutinized everything about Harry – Becoming a mother had done nothing to tame Bellatrix Lestrange. Poor Cassie would probably witness death before her first birthday – even with Harry's promise to never talk to her again if she didn't protect her daughter from such things. Thankfully Rodolphus was like his peers in that he believed the children should be shielded until they were ready to join in.

"Ummm," Bella sing-song tone caused Harry to lift her wand on instinct. "Make me!" She cackled, casting on and hurting Barty without care so Harry had no choice but to attack.

Harry couldn't disable Bella, but she was able to quickly distract her enough for Barty to get up and enter the fray, so when Tom did join them some time later it was two against one, though Bella still seemed to be winning.

"Perhaps I should step in to assist poor Bella?" His smooth deep voice brought all three figures to a screeching halt.

"No!" They all called in unison, before the older two realised exactly who had spoken. They stared with wide eyes as they watched an eyebrow lift on that emotionless face.

Bella threw herself down before him – always a little intense in everything she did, especially in her devotion to her Lord. "Forgive me, master! I'm unworthy. I would be honoured to fight beside you!" Tom smirked a little as he looked down at her grovelling form, and thought it was in these situations Harry should be casting on his followers while their backs were turned.

He glanced across to Barty, who was also apologising for being impertinent, before his eyes found Harry – it was like she'd read his mind.

Harry didn't see anything wrong with the scene, but she did see openings and so fired. A limb enlarging hex sped towards Bella, but the women was too good to be ambushed and spun on her knees to deflect the spell, before turning back to Voldemort as though nothing had happed.

Tom laughed, before telling them to get up and taking out his wand.

Harry took a step back.

"I'm not fighting you!" She cried in exaggerated panic. "You have a hundred years on me – it's not fair!"

He laughed again, but this time the chill in his laugh put everyone on high alert. _"I'm not that old Harriet."_ "Fine you can all fight me – surely that's fair?"

Harry didn't wait a second before firing at him. "OK."

 **We are definitely going to Hogwarts next chapter lol.**

 **Thank you all xx**


	31. Dissonance

Platform 9¾ was bustling and hectic. Harriet had a group of adults here to see her off, but with the hundreds of other people about, her entourage went largely unnoticed. Sirius was present, mostly because he was expected to be, but the other seven with her were wearing glamours and she was getting confused about who was who. Bella was the only woman, so easily recognised, Harry made Rod hold his new-born daughter so she could tell him apart, and Barty had tell-tale mannerisms that easily gave him away – the others were anyone's guess. And she was sure they were moving about and switching positions on purpose, just to confuse her.

Last but not least there was Tom, who Harriet would be able to recognise in any disguise, even if the others weren't making it painfully obvious: they looked to their perfectly average looking 'friend' to take the lead and were exceptionally cautious about getting too loud or accidentally jostling him as they meandered through the crowd.

Harry grinned up at Tom. _"I bet you hate this!"_ She teased mentally, watching his jaw tic in annoyance.

" _It is an indignity I would suffer only for your sake."_ His tone was hard and not at all comforting – like he was doing her a favour and expected a boon in return. Harry just smirked. Let him act put out: she knew she couldn't have kept him away if she'd tried.

" _Ah well. One day you can tell them who you really are. I'm sure they'd clear a path for you then!"_ She cheeked, but his chilling smile told her she was spot on.

" _If I allow them onto the platform at all, they will be brushed to the sides, kissing the ground."_ Harry rolled her eyes, but didn't doubt it. It was when he said things like this that, friend or not, she was glad she was on his side.

Once there was space enough to stand comfortably, Harry rushed through her goodbyes, partly because she didn't want to say goodbye at all, but mostly because she felt like everyone on the platform was staring, pointing or whispering about her. She'd sacrificed a lot to go to Hogwarts, but now she wasn't so sure about her decision. She saw the Malfoys standing not too far away, saw how Draco turned several times to stare until Narcissa placed her hand across his shoulders to artfully move him out of view. It made Harry smile: Draco would always be terrified of Tom – he probably thought He was about to blow up the platform or something!

"You should all head out now." She heard Tom say quietly, and his followers were so in tuned to Him that they clearly heard the order over the din. "Do _not_ make a move until you see the sign." Harry quickly turned back, her face full of worry and after a few moments where it looked like she wanted to say something she dove in for parting hugs with Bella and Cassie. She could only assume Rod would take the baby home before he left for the mission. They had only made it a few metres when she finally noticed a large red headed family approaching and had to bite back a groan. She knew who that family was and understood now why Tom had dismissed the others – no need to tempt his men with a family of annoying Order members.

"Sirius!" Arthur Weasley greeted with enough genuine affection for his old friend to make his presence tolerable to Harriet. She used to enjoy hearing about her parents' friends, but as the years passed she learnt to resent them. Somewhere along the way she began to question why none of them had stepped up to take care of her. She couldn't imagine any of her friends being sent to muggles if their parents died. Theo had been left with a mother and a large enough estate to ensure they wanted for nothing, yet families like the Malfoys had still made sure the fatherless child was included and had no lack of male authority figures in his life. Harry saw the political plays that took place between pureblood families, but magical (pureblood) life was precious to them and she had no doubt a dozen families would have offered to adopt Theo if anything had happened to Mrs Nott, regardless of anything else going on.

And then of course there was the more important fact that these people followed Dumbledore in wanting Tom dead.

"And you must be Harriet." Mr Weasley pulled her from her thoughts. He was a very cheerful man – Harry wasn't exactly used to that level of unfounded cheerfulness, and she didn't quite know what to make of it: what was the cause of that cheerfulness? Was it her? Did he see her the same way the other staring faces did? What did he want?

"Yes sir, how do you do?" Her tone was level and her manner polite and Tom noticed the slight quirk of the Weasley patriarch's eyebrow. After her traumatic summer, it seemed no one was expecting the famous child to be quite so… pureblood in nature. Tom waited until the man ran out of family members to introduce and then caught Black's eye before giving an almost imperceptible shake of the head. He'd allowed civil greetings, but wouldn't be subjected to them for any longer than necessary, especially when he was sure to be introduced next. He had no personal issue with the Weasleys, but most certainly didn't want them near Harry.

Sirius countenance fell immediately, but he obeyed his Lord's clear order and started making his excuses to his old friends, hoping they would take the hint and leave before he had to be rude. He'd avoided everyone from his past – apart from Remus – because he'd discovered that avoidance worked well for him. Voldemort would surely order the deaths of these people sooner or later, so there was no need to torture himself by getting attached. Besides, as Harry liked to point out; these people had abandoned him, had no faith in him and believed him to be a traitor with no evidence… he didn't owe them anything.

"Very well, I suppose the children should really be getting a move on anyway." Molly said helpfully. "Ron's starting this year too. Why don't you go together to find a place to sit?" She suggested.

Harry opened her mouth to express her displeasure at that suggestion, but paused to gather her thoughts when she felt Tom's calming hand on her shoulder.

"Perhaps I'll try to find him later. Unfortunately, I still have people to greet." It wasn't perfect, but it was a politer response than the one she'd swallowed. She thought the resulting look of disappointment was a little much, like the woman was expecting something more; like she too wanted something from her. Harry took a step closer to Tom.

She watched the family retreat and breathed a sigh of relief. It really would be better to have stayed home, wouldn't it?

"Hey kiddo, try to remember your classmates aren't their parents, just like you aren't Lily and James." There was something sad in the way Sirius said that, but it didn't affect Harry the way it used to. He was right after all: She was nothing like her parents. Instead of responding, she pulled him into a tight hug.

After several moments of just hanging onto her godfather, she heard Tom speak: "Ok Black, back in your cage." The order was soft but clear and instigated an instant hardening of Sirius features as he stepped out of Harry's grasp. The animagus shifted as he battled with himself about something. He was relieved that Harry was finally going to get out from under the same roof as psychotic murderers, but he'd been taught well that his purpose in life was Harry, and he had no idea what he was going to do with himself with her away at school. He might be driven to admitting how much he actually enjoyed the company of the Death Eaters. He'd already taken a familial vow to care for and protect Cassiopeia – like a normal family member would… like a normal, loving uncle would…

After Voldemort turned to him with an expectant look, he bowed his head slightly and lowered his voice so as to not be overheard. "Please, allow me to see her off." He ground out.

With his head still lowered, Sirius didn't see the Dark Lord's smirk, but he did hear the darkly threatening word that followed: "Now!" Sighing in defeat and knowing better than to push Him further, he stepped forward to sweep Harriet up into a final hug. He could have refused of course – it's not like Voldemort could have done anything about it while they were at the station, but he knew that without Harry there, the punishment he received once he was home might well have been harsher and longer lasting than ever before.

" _Tom, you be nice to Sirius!"_ Harry watched her godfather walk away with a frown. When Tom didn't respond she turned to him. _"I mean it! Or just let him go live at Grimmauld if you can't be nice!"_

" _Not a chance – of either suggestion."_ He finally responded with a grin. Harry had too much affection to realise it, but without the constant reinforcement of living with the Dark Order, and in the company and influence of his old friends, Black would start to 'see the light' sooner or later and perhaps even regain his will to fight. That wasn't a risk Tom would ever be taking. Tom wasn't trusting enough to give Black his freedom without first striping him of his ability to rebel. " _I find Black far too entertaining, and I would only allow him to leave Bleeding Wolf after thoroughly breaking his mind. I'm inclined to believe you would find this option even less palatable?"_

The expected scowl was impressive. _"Don't you dare…"_ She fell silent, knowing it would do no good to threaten Tom, as he'd just threaten back, and unlike her he had the power to follow through on his threats.

" _I think you know I'm already exceptionally 'nice' to your pet."_ Yep, that simple statement was all the threat she needed to know to back down. No need to condemn her godfather to spending the next school term in those awful dungeons… She shook her head; she didn't want to think about that place.

An announcement rang out to hurry any stragglers onto the train and she looked around once more, finding the crowd around had thinned out significantly. She didn't know whether to be annoyed or afraid to see many of the remaining adults still throwing curious glances her way. What was wrong with everyone?!

She took a deep breath and turned back to her friend. Maybe Tom was right – he usually was – and she shouldn't go away to school. She could hide from everyone at home. She could hide from the new reality about to befall the world in the safety of Tom's shadow. And then there was Tom himself – at home she could make sure he was safe too.

" _What if I don't like it at Hogwarts?"_ Her concern was palpable, but in his opinion utterly ridiculous. He wouldn't allow himself to be injured by the desperate muggles, but he would be having fun helping reduce their numbers – though they would be mostly doing that themselves.

" _Then, you will realise I was correct and return, to be educated at home."_ Harry knew what he was trying to do, but it didn't help.

" _Tom, I don't think I want to go."_

He blinked at her for a few moments: Her thoughts were all over the place, but he could read them easily: her fears of being used and that she'd fall apart without him near, but really, after the fuss she'd made and everything she'd…

" _Harry,"_ He started calmly, with an unreadable expression. _"Get out of my sight."_ Harry let out her breath and gave a wry smile, before pulling him in without warning.

" _I love you Tom."_ He rolled his eyes as he felt his ribs being compressed and let out a long suffering sigh.

* * *

As the train pulled out of the station, Harry heaved her trunk down the aisle and it occurred to her she should have arranged to meet Draco somewhere specific. Thankfully though, she only made it halfway down the second car when she heard Pansy whining about not being able to get a private compartment.

"There are too many of us for a compartment anyway." Daphne replied absently. Everyone seemed to notice when Harry came into view at the same time. They eyed her with suspicion.

"So it's true: Harriet Potter is going to Hogwarts." Draco's tone reflected an easily reinforced superiority, but his smirk only barely hid his genuine amusement at the current situation. Harry's face remained admirably stoic.

"Apparently so. And it seems I have the pleasure of attending with a Malfoy. How do you do?" She extended her hand. The easiest way to disarm pompous purebloods was to make them feel special – _of course_ the Malfoys and no doubt all the other families represented in this circle were just as important and famous as the Girl-Who-Lived(!).

The others relaxed a little as Draco took her hand – as he accepted her in some small way into the group.

"I'd have thought you would travel with bodyguards." Pansy's comment was snide, but also cautious and guarded. Harry thought this was going much better than she'd expected. She could only hope her friends would see the opportunity of befriending Harry and not resort to emotional reactions. She was sure if they just gave her a chance she could win them back.

"There's no need. I'm unkillable, haven't you heard?" She replied with a shrug and a self-deprecating half smile. There were a few awkward titters while Draco snorted.

"Would you like to sit with us?" Theo offered to her relief. She thanked him and nestled in between him and Pansy.

"You can't just leave that there!" the girl pointed expectantly to her trunk, which was still lying across the walkway, but Harry just let out a short, humourless laugh.

"Oh I forgot all about it." She said honestly, too used to other people or elves picking up after her. Tom really had spoiled her – she thought to make up for all those years he had been unable to lift a finger to help.

"I know, right?" Daphne agreed to something unsaid. "It's barbaric not to allow us servants at school." The girls especially seemed to be reassured by Harry's bratty attitude and sat back, while sending expectant looks to Draco.

"Indeed, we shouldn't be expected to haul our own luggage, especially the ladies. Goyle, why don't you assist our new friend?" Draco really was at his best when bitching about the general indignities of life. Greg stood and lifted Harry's trunk onto the rails with little care, not at all concerned with being tasked with the role of servant.

"So, tell us everything there is to know about Harriet Potter." Daphne said as she sat back with a wide mischievous grin, while Harry tried not to squirm under the curious stares of the others.

"Erm, well, I guess I like…"

"No, not that." Pansy interrupted. "We all read your puff piece in Witch Weekly. We want the real stuff, the nitty gritty – you must have interesting stories to tell." Harry hid a groan with an over the top sigh.

"You were raised by muggles, right?" Vince asked. He lacked tact, but his question opened up the subject to the others.

"Yes, what on earth was that like?" Pansy leaned forward; her eyes alight with scandalous interest.

Harry glared. "I wasn't _raised_ by muggles." She spat out, only calming herself when she noticed how shocked and taken-aback the others were at her outburst. She took a deep breath and continued: "Living with muggles is every bit as dreadful as you imagine. They attack what they fear or don't understand."

The awkward silence only lasted a few moments before Draco took a chance. "So you agree that muggles are inferior?" Getting Harry to agree in such a straight forward manner would make the process of getting their friends to trust her so much easier.

"Of course." She replied uncertainly – not because she was unsure of her words, but because she was unsure this was even a point of debate. "They're vile." Draco was correct in that her words did bolster confidence in the others.

Harry didn't fully agree with what Tom was about to do. So much death was incomprehensible. But she didn't disagree with the bigger picture of what he was trying to accomplish.

"Muggles are hateful and destructive, petty, jealous and incredibly ignorant. Their skills and creativity would be better directed by…"

"Have you seen a toad?" Harry was interrupted again – this time by a witch she'd never seen before. "Neville's lost his." She was grateful for the interruption, for she had been getting a little carried away for a moment there. Though judging by the rapt fascination on her friends' faces she was in no danger speaking of such things in their company.

"No, we haven't seen a toad." Draco was more annoyed than the others by the unwelcome guest. He always suspected Harry knew more of what was going on than he did, and desperately wanted to know what she had to say. "Longbottom, right?" He asked after taking the time to eye the witch's companion. After a stuttered affirmation, Draco proceeded to introduce himself and those he sat with.

"Potter? You're H-Harriet Potter?" Neville asked with wide eyes – eyes that were mimicked by the new witch.

"Yes. I," Harry paused. His parents had fought against her friends, but she could sympathise with a child that lost his parents to that misguided cause. "I'm sorry about your parents." Neville's face suddenly hardened a little, so she continued quickly. "I guess that's something we have in common." Thankfully he was put at ease by her sad smile, though he didn't comment on it, instead choosing to simply nod in acknowledgement.

"You I don't know." Draco spoke to the witch as though nothing had happened since his introductions.

"I'm Hermione Granger." She responded proudly, though visibly uneasy with the scrutinizing eyes pinning her in place.

"Granger… I've not heard that name before." He didn't even try to hide the accusation in that simple statement.

"My parents are muggles." The snorts and sneers of derision made Hermione frown uncomfortably as she felt a need to defend them. "They…"

"Are disgusting. You shouldn't even…"

"Don't Draco." Harry said softly, earning a confused, questioning look from him and a curious, but unseen look from Pansy.

"But you just said..!"

"Don't!" She hissed, pleased to see him relent straight away. "Just stop." Turning to Granger, she let herself sneer with the others. "The toad isn't here, so there is no reason for you to be here any longer!"

"There's no need to be so rude! Come on Neville." Hermione threw up her chin and stormed away, much to the displeasure of the purebloods.

"Ha…" Draco took a breath and stood. "Potter. I'd like to introduce you to some people, if you're agreeable?" He nodded towards the gangway, and suspecting a lecture of some kind Harry followed him.

They quickly made their way to the back of the train and as soon as they were in the privacy of the rear balcony Draco spoke, though with more gentleness than Harry was expecting.

"What was that about, Harry? Why were you defending a mudblood and her muggle parents?"

Harry leaned against the railing, looking out at the world disappearing from view. "I think you're forgetting that my mother was a mudblood." She said sharply, but then sent him a sad frown. "The muggles… they might be muggles, but they're her parents." There was genuine sadness in her eyes, and he didn't know whether to be concerned or pleased to see it after the cold, apathetic front he'd had to deal with lately. "And she could lose them…" Her lip was quivering, it was faint but it was there.

"Harry." He turned her around and held her shoulders. "What's going on? What's about to happen?" It was a forbidden question, whispered out. She bit her lip.

"Mass slaughter for the greater good?"


	32. Longing and Belonging

The usual racket made by students as they alighted onto the platform at Hogsmeade soon morphed and twisted into an insistent clamour as they all, one by one, noticed the many professors present, as well as their tense, fretful posture. They were afraid. Their faces were taught with stress and that tension permeated the air and left all the students confused and unsure.

All but Harry and Draco, who made their way over to the giant man calling for the first years, and diligently ignored the ersatz explanations from their peers, though Harry's eyes did flicker over to Narcissa as one of the older students asked her why the teaching staff were escorting them to the castle this year. Narcissa didn't disappoint – she was the only adult present that maintained her poise and composure, and her dignity inspired Harriet to suppress her own worries and keep her chin up as she moved forward.

Fortunately for Harry, despite the irresistible anxiety in the air, Daphne found something of more import to distract them all:

"Oh gross. That's just brilliant! They could have warned us that hiking boots were required just to make it to the school!" She groused, leaning heavily on Vince as they made their way down the steep, narrow path, and deciding her little suede boots were a lost cause after trying to kick off the dirt.

Harry forced herself to laugh. "Welcome to the real world." She could remember being a child on her knees, weeding her aunt's garden – it wasn't something she'd particularly complain about back then, but it was amusing to even think of her friends doing such a thing. Just as it was pleasantly amusing to see her friends trying to be perfect little ladies, even though weeks before they had all been together in the lake and muddy shores of Malfoy Manor. She supposed everyone wore masks of some sort.

"Well forgive me for not having been raised in the mud!" Daphne snapped, successfully bringing Harry out of her thoughts to look at the blonde's nasty glare. Whoops. It was so difficult to remember that she wasn't friends with these people anymore/yet, and that she couldn't enjoy the type of casual comradery they'd built up over the years.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude." She gave easily in the hopes that Daphne would lower her defences a little. She thought the train ride had gone rather well considering everything that was going on, and didn't want to destroy her initial good impression with a stray comment. She heard Theo snicker at her apologetic tone and realised everyone must have taken notice of the perceived insult. Draco though was only half listening from his position at the head of their group - he'd developed an instinctive hyperawareness whenever he was with Harry that prevented him from _not_ listening, but his thoughts had been drawn away to what Harry had told him hours earlier. Try though he did to shove them down until he had time to properly process the information and decide how he felt about it, they would not be silenced and everyone had noticed he was a little distracted.

He really did need time to think on it, because right now he didn't know what to feel, and that left him feeling a little of everything. At first he'd been a bit underwhelmed by the revelation, but now he was excited, almost giddy and incredibly proud that his family was at the centre of such an incredible event, at the destruction of the current way of things. However this then led to worry and fear: that his father was prominently involved also meant that he was exposed, and from what he'd heard muggles were vicious and unpredictable, and if this was true to the extent that Harry was worrying about the Dark Lord then Draco certainly felt justified worrying about his father.

"We're losing him again!" Blaise joked loudly as he slapped a hand onto Draco's shoulder in order to bring him back to reality and halt his steps. When Draco turned to him with a questioning, raised eyebrow, his friend went on: "You almost walked into the lake." He laughed, only to laugh harder when he saw a tiny crack in the Malfoy façade when the blond turned to see the water glittering only a few metres ahead.

Harry caught the exchange and walked to Draco when she saw Blaise open his mouth to question just what on earth was on his friend's mind. "We're being called to the boats." She nodded to the small vessels and leaned closer to Draco as they moved to get in as instructed. "Be cool!" She whispered.

"You be cool!" Draco shot back immediately, to which Harry merely rolled her eyes before stepping into a boat with Pansy, Daphne and Millie. It had been a relief to share with Draco, though now his nerves were beginning to add to her own.

The girls were joined by a tiny man who introduced himself as Professor Flitwick, and soon the boats were moving forward. There were a lot of teachers with them, Harry noticed as she looked around the other boats, but none she recognised as Tom's. Maybe Dumbledore thought Tom might try attacking her out here in the open.

"Woah!" She looked forward at Millie's quiet exclamation and her own breath caught when, for the first time, she saw Hogwarts Castle in all its glorious splendour. Tom had been right: it was beautiful. And she was right to have come here.

Once they were within the safety of the castle, the first years were left alone for a short while. The conversations were divided between what had happened to make the teachers so tense and what the sorting ceremony consisted of, and the room was abuzz with all sorts of ideas.

"Hey Harry." She turned to see one of the Weasleys she'd met that morning, though she couldn't for the life of her remember what this one was called. "Thought I'd see you on the train."

"Oh, yes. Well I got rather side-tracked with some friends." She looked around to see the pleased and triumphant faces of her friends, no doubt thinking it was some great victory to have nabbed the Girl-Who-Lived first.

Weasley frowned. "You know Harry, not all families are good." The boy seemed unsure of himself but pushed forward when he was joined by a few friends, Neville and Dean. "You could find yourself in trouble if you go making friends with the wrong sort." Now it was Harry's turn to frown.

"I think you mean that some families are better than others." Draco interrupted the two as he stepped forward. "And there's no need to guess yours: red hair and hand-me-down robes – you must be a Weasley." He sneered, and Harry watched a little fascinated as a deep red spread across Weasley's face. It was sweet really, refreshing – that simple guileless way he talked and the way his insecurities were clearly displayed across his face.

Thankfully, before anyone could say anything to add to the rising animosity, McGonagall called for quiet, before leading them at last into the Great Hall. However, Harry couldn't enjoy the castle this time, she couldn't appreciate the magnificent room; she was too preoccupied worrying about where the old singing hat would place her. She half-listened to its song while trying to analyse how its words pertained to herself: her true friends were in Slytherin, but she wasn't really cunning, and her only ambition was to make it through this evening without suffering some kind of breakdown!

She saw Draco's blond hair in her periphery as he stopped beside her and reached down for his hand, hoping the folds of their robes hid the action from any onlookers. "Dumbledore's not here." His voice was barely a whisper, but she heard him just fine and looked up to see the Headmaster's chair was indeed empty. Knowing that the old man wasn't here should have made her feel a little better – it meant she wouldn't have to deal with him tonight and if he had been called to the International Confederation of Wizards it meant things were going as planned back at home. It didn't make her feel better though; it just made her want to call out to Tom: she needed him to confirm everything and everyone was ok.

Harry watched as the students began to be sorted: Bones – Tom's forces had taken every member of Susan's family from her… She had to force her mind onto the next child – she had enough on her mind already, and if she started thinking about every little thing her whole head would explode.

The sorting continued and she smiled as Millicent was placed into Slytherin, though her smile became more and more strained as the sorting went on and more of her friends were also sorted there, because if just one of them had gone to another house she could have relaxed a little, could have taken comfort in knowing she had options and that she'd have a friend no matter where she went. By the time Draco pulled his hand free she was starting to broaden her definition of 'friend': Cho, who she'd met a few times at social gathering, had been placed into Ravenclaw House… She was nice enough…

"SLYTHERIN!" Harry's heart sank as her brother was placed before the hat even touched his head. Theo followed him, then Pansy, and then even though she knew it was coming, Harry was shocked to hear her name called.

Hushed whispers broke out throughout the hall, but Harry ignored them to search out Draco, who gave her a small, reassuring smile. It gave her the strength she needed to step forward, and glancing quickly to Narcissa at the head table gave her the wherewithal to straighten her back and to not allow herself to wither under the multitudes craning their necks to get a good look at her. She would not throw up in front of the entire school! Nope! She definitely wouldn't...

" _Well,"_ the hat's tone of voice was instantly hardened and did nothing to quell Harry's fears, _"I have to say, I've never been inside a child's mind so touched by Dark Magic. The Darkest, in fact."_ Harry stayed quiet in the hope that the hat would be quick in sorting her into Slytherin. There was nothing wrong with her mind! Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin, she thought desperately. _"Nothing wrong, ey? I'm not in the business of right or wrong, but I suppose you are about the best I could expect from someone whose had the Dark Lord whispering directly into their mind since they were a baby. I can say for a certainty that I've never come across a child who is missing a part of their soul… I don't know what to make of you…"_ Harry felt herself getting defensive at the suggestion that having Tom in her life was a bad thing somehow. It wasn't bad; it was the best thing that had happened to her! _"I told you, I'm not saying right or wrong, good or bad. It simply presents an interesting dilemma. I believe that placing you in Gryffindor could benefit you greatly, but you're likely to spend the entirety of your school years arguing if I do so."_ No, good, as long as she wasn't placed in Gryffindor Harry could make do. Though she wasn't argumentative – she didn't know what the old hat was talking about! _"You have great potential within you, and Slytherin would be best suited to help you realise that greatness."_ Yes! She thought to herself. Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin! _"But, Harriet Potter, the weight you bear is too great for a child so young. Hufflepuff would be most beneficial for soothing your chaotic mind."_

" _No!"_ She finally thought, trying to communicate directly with the hat for the first time.

" _Are you sure? You could make good friends there – friends that wouldn't necessarily have ulterior motives or expect anything in return for their friendships. Hufflepuff could give you a taste of the carefree life every student should experience."_

" _My life is perfect!"_ She challenged. Yes, she had been exposed to so much pain and death it was almost normal to her, but that just made her stronger. She had family and had a large circle of friends. She wanted for nothing, and even at Bleeding Wolf she was surrounded by family that could have her in tears of laughter. And most of all she felt save and protected and loved. _"Everything going on right now is temporary."_ It was what Tom had told her: the death and destruction and suffering was necessary in order to change the world for the better.

She heard the hat sigh. _"Well then I suppose there is only one place for you."_ "SLYTHEIRN!"

Harriet's heart fluttered as the hat was removed and she walked across to her friends with a grin she couldn't supress. She felt lighter. It was a small triumph in the grand scheme of things, but it was an important one to her. Slytherin was where she belonged.

 **xx**


	33. Under one Banner

Dumbledore braced his forehead in one hand as he listened to the dissenting voices around him, and even though they had been repeating the same reasonings since the start of this meeting, they were getting louder and more strained as the hours ticked by.

He had of course been expecting some grand reveal from Tom, but could never have imagined he'd been working on such a large scale, and he had been floored when the floo calls first started coming in: The Dark Mark had been raised over buildings that represented the centre of muggle power in over fifty countries, to act as a rallying call for a coordinated attack, the likes of which had never been seen before. From America to Iran, Russian to the EU. It was incredible, and many wizards around the world were already cowed by the sheer grandness of it. Albus knew that there was no way all these groups from all these countries had become Tom's followers, but people were, perhaps rightly, afraid of the power of the man who had managed to unite them all under his banner. Sedition was already spreading in many lands.

The leaders of the wizarding world had been confused at first, for it seemed no action accompanied the rising of the Mark. Their towns and governments hadn't been attacked. But then news started trickling in from the muggle world and they realised the wizards had never been the target at all. It transpired that within 10 minutes, every muggle electrical device around the world had shorted, had blown – from toasters to power stations, everything was dead. Powerlines has snapped after power mains suffered a surge far greater than the system could handle. It was an impressive feat, Albus thought for the tenth time in as many minutes. Really, if only Tom had chosen to direct his efforts in helping, he could have accomplished so much good.

Still, Albus knew how devastating this bloodless attack would be to the muggles. It was insidious. The muggles relied on their technology for even the most basic aspects of life. It provided their heat and light, enabled commerce and logistics and the distribution of food. The vast majority of their money was simply numbers on a screen and had been blinked out of existence in a second. Without electricity they would struggle to communicate, struggle to provide medical care, and struggle to govern.

He'd seen how people reacted to Blackouts before. He remembered the 1977 Blackout in New York that had seen thousands of people looting only minutes after it had begun. There had been fires and shoot outs and from what he could remember that had only been a small event. He was by no means an expert on such things, but couldn't imagine the damage done this time would be fixed so easily. It would probably take a decade and inconceivable cost for the muggles to fully rebuild their infrastructure! Without communication, the poor muggles wouldn't even know what was happening. He wondered how long it would take for them to realise that any computers and cars and such they stole over the coming days would be useless to them.

So far things were relatively calm out in the muggle world, but that wouldn't last. It was a mess. He couldn't even decide just how Tom had achieved this, and that meant he didn't know whether it was a one off attack or something he could repeat.

Dumbledore thought things couldn't get any worse, but half an hour after the lights went out, the attacks started: one after the other, the Marked government buildings had been destroyed, many with the government still inside… The muggles were entering a long, dark era, the result of which Albus was trying not to think about.

He listened absently to the men and women around him:

"We must at the very least assist them in communicating with one another. To aid them in taking control of the situation, as well as their citizens!"

"Do you really think they will settle for such help? No, they'll expect us to assist with restoration – with feeding them even! There are billions and billions of them! Do you really believe we can accomplish such a task?!"

"We have to ensure our _own_ people are safe first and foremost!"

"We should do what we can!"

"They'll turn on us!"

He sighed again. Either he didn't know many of these people as well as he thought he did, or someone had been whispering poison in their ears…

While waiting for the room to calm, he turned his attention to the statement that had been delivered to the _Prophet_ hours earlier. The paper had passed a copy along to the Ministry, but would be running it in tomorrow's edition despite objections. Albus knew that soon after Tom's voice would be ringing out from papers across the world.

 _My fellow witches and wizards,_

 _For too long we have been pushed aside, forced to live in the shadows for the sake protecting and appeasing the muggles. We have been taught this is the way things should be. We have been taught this is our place; scurrying like rats out of sight in the small areas we are permitted to inhabit._

 _I say this is wrong! I say we are powerful, and should walk proudly in this magnificent world. I say it's time to break free from our normalcy bias and take our true place as masters of our own lives._

 _I have worked tirelessly to see this come to pass, and it is my earnest desire that you all join me in this endeavour._

 _However, I understand the ideals of the Light that have been so painstakingly inculcated might be difficult to turn aside, and I therefore I ask of you only this: that you keep watch during the months to come. Muggles are not the creatures we have been led to believe. Watch and see how thin their veneer of civilization really is. Watch how quickly they are reduced to savagery. Watch how they show themselves as the animals they truly are. They are violent and self-serving. They have persecuted us in times past and will do so again if we allow it._

 _I will stand up to protect wizardkind, and to protect our Earth from their destructive influence. And when the time comes, I hope you will stand with me. We must stay united, so gather your courage and stand up. Stand to protect the future; to protect your children's future; to ensure that never again will we allow ourselves to be forced under the oppressive yoke of those who would rather protect muggle domination, than protect their own kind._

 _Our time will come, my friends, when as a people we will rise above the injustices of the past and carve out our own perfect world…_

He stopped reading. The statement was frustratingly on message, and Albus could only hope people wouldn't be swayed by winsome words and the actions of fearful and desperate muggles – Tom was likely right in that many of them would resort to aggression as resources dwindled, and if there was any attacks on wizards it would be used as proof that muggles needed to be controlled. He would have to make an effort to point out all that wasn't being said, such as what Tom planned to do with the power he was asking the people to give him. He'd said nothing of his plans for muggles, or muggleborns for that matter. There was nothing about what his regime would look like for the wizarding community either. If Tom won the battle for hearts and minds, the public wouldn't realise the dark path they were being led down until it was too late.

* * *

Harriet stared at the canopy of her bed. There was no use in trying to sleep. Everything was too quiet, and without anything to distract her thoughts they began to drift back over the evening.

Apparently the headmaster wanted school to remain as normal as possible for his students, and so McGonagall hadn't announced the return of Lord Voldemort until just before desert was served. The effect had been instantaneous and frantic whispers soon became calls for more information.

The reactions of the Slytherins had been a curious mix of fear and excitement. If it weren't for Draco and Theo's continuous display of grace and friendship towards her, Harry believed her other friends would have concluded that befriending the Girl-Who-Lived was too risky. She had actually started to despair that things would never go back to the way they were, but then she overheard Pansy telling Millicent that she wished 'Harry was here to see this', and her hope blossomed brighter. She couldn't blame them for being careful, so would give them time to adjust.

A few nasty comments were sent her way, but they didn't bother her as much as she thought they would, mostly because they consisted of how the Dark Lord was going to kill her bloody. That actually tickled her and she laughed a little, but didn't reply in case she got carried away and proclaimed that He would kill anyone who tried to do such a thing.

The only time she almost broke down was when McGonagall made the announcement regarding the tragic murder of Professor Snape.

 _Murder._ McGonagall had actually used that word.

 _Murderer. Harry was a murderer._ In that moment Harry thought for sure everyone would know what she'd done. Her heart stopped beating, or at least it felt like it did. _Murderer!_ Her self-condemnation beat her viciously while her fellow students discussed this news and began linking it to the Dark Lord's return, or propogating the consensus that he'd been killed by a mob of muggles, as suggested by the cause of death.

"What's the matter with you?" Greg asked to her horror – drawing everyone's attention. Tears were threatening to fall and she desperately tried to harden herself. Everyone had killed someone, she told herself, and he was a traitor anyway… he was dead anyway… She reached down and grabbed Draco's hand for the second time that night, squeezing it tightly and he squeezed back just as hard, before drawing attention to himself, boasting that he _of course_ knew all about the Dark Lord's return etc. etc. It worked and soon everyone was calling him out on his 'nonsense'. He kept up his prideful spiel whilst subtly watching Harry and was relieved to see her face quickly losing any trace of emotion as she pulled herself together. He'd wanted her back to her own self, but most certainly didn't want her breaking down before the whole school! Harry just wondered how she would be able to get by without Tom's constant presence and comfort. She already wanted to run home.

After retiring to the dorms she'd joined in with the group of girls easily enough. There was only one girl she didn't already know, Tracy Davies, and she seemed nice enough. She was a half-blood like Harry, which took the edge off because it seemed they were the only two half-blood Slytherin girls this year. There were also three other pure-blood girls in this dorm that Harry knew casually; Francis Griffiths, Elsie Wright and Beatrice Cottingley. They were hostile, but not aggressively so, and therefore Harry didn't pay them any mind. Millie was still rather standoffish, and Daphne was a little cold, but Pansy kept her included until the time came to sleep.

No one sorted into Slytherin this year had any muggle parents, which Harry thought a shame if only because such students had been asked to stay behind after dinner, and they could have brought more information!

" _I doubt your professors will appreciate dealing with a sleepy student in the morning."_ Harry shot bolt upright.

" _How is everyone? How is Lucius? Did Bella get back OK? What about Barty? Are Rod and Rab and Rook…"_

" _I'm fine, thank you for your concern."_ Tom cut in dryly.

" _I know you're fine!"_ She snapped back, not realising just how high stung she'd felt. She knew he was OK, because she could sense his pleased, almost gleeful feelings seeping into her mind _. "Tom!"_ She snapped again when he didn't respond straight away.

" _Calm down! You're going to ruin my good mood."_ His words were clipped and harsh and caused her to take a calming breath, though even after she was still ready to floo home and make him tell her what was going on. He laughed, but before she could start ranting he finally gave her what she wanted. _"Everybody is fine."_

" _Actually fine, or 'Tom fine'?"_ She asked, though the strain in her muscles started to ease the moment he'd said those simple words.

" _Fine."_ He clarified, oh so helpfully. _"Crouch and Mulciber were shot, but…"_

" _WHAT?!"_ She shouted in panic. Her blood ran cold, her heart beating a violent tattoo.

" _BUT_ …" He continued unperturbed, _"they have no serious wounds and will be_ _ **fine**_ _in a few weeks."_

"OK." She breathed out loud as her heart bean to slow. _"So what happened?"_

" _You want a debrief?"_ He laughed, wondering why he'd allowed her in the room when they were discussing risk analysis. Nevertheless he went on to describe how the muggles had opened fire during his attack on the Palace of Westminster. They were quickly subdued, of course, but not before hitting several of his men. When he'd watched Barty go down Harry's possible reaction to his death had briefly flickered through his mind and he turned his attention from the majestic building to destroy the muggles nearing his injured man. It was only after the short battle, when he was chairing his actual debrief, that he realised what an incredible _weakness_ it was and decided it was something he would have to keep in check. He could hardly wage a war worrying about each man he sent into the field!

Harry was quiet while she processed his tale. Everything had gone as planned – she shouldn't have worried so much…

" _You made it into my House. I knew you would."_ Tom finally changed the subject when he noticed the Slytherin drapes around her. He didn't like to see Harry so distressed. It bothered him... One thing he'd learned was that Harry was never going to be given foreknowledge of a mission ever again. Today had been phase one of his attack on the muggles, but as far as it was possible, she would never find out about phase two.

" _I don't think the Hat knew what else to do with me."_ She went along with the new topic and soon enough began talking his ear off about nothing he felt important. He could hear his followers celebrating elsewhere in the house. It had been a good day, but he was already trying to calculate what would come next. It was really out of his control for now. How long before the muggles regrouped, turned to tribalism, and turned on each other to acquire the dwindling resources? What would the military do? He didn't have the numbers to destroy every base at once. How long would it take Dumbledore to work out what Tom had done and act to make sure it couldn't be repeated? It had been watching muggle life through Harry's eyes that made him realise how reliant they were on their technology and that taking that from them was the best way to cripple them. He'd collected energy released by the sun during solar flares in crystals around the earth. That energy had to be released at the same time, otherwise half of the Earth would be powerless and the other side would have an incomparable upper hand. It was a risk, and he could hardly believe it had actually gone off without a hitch, though naturally he only showed cool confidence to his Death Eaters. Assuming his allies around the world hadn't suffered major casualties in their own battles, the process would be repeated tomorrow in order to destroy anything the muggles might have previously been hiding in places the energy couldn't penetrate. After that they would need recharging, but he doubted the muggles would be able to get anywhere near organised enough to rebuild before they did.

" _You're not even listening, are you?"_ Harry accused. He rolled his eyes before letting her know how pleased he was that she was in Slytherin.

* * *

Harry tiptoed across the small hallway to the entrance to the first year male dorms, but then hesitated. Draco would want to know his dad was OK, but she could hardly knock up the whole dorm – that wouldn't be suspicious at all!

"Draco!" She whispered as loud as she dared, hoping he would be lying awake as she had been half an hour previously. Nothing. "Hey! Draco! Are you awake?"

"Harry?" Came a whisper in reply, though not from behind the door. She turned to see Draco standing at the end of the hall closest to the common room, and quickly walked over to him.

They tiredly made their way over to a sofa and Harry spoke as soon as they were seated. "Lucius is ok." Draco visibly eased back at the news. He didn't even question how she could know that, simply accepted it. "Sam and Barty were shot, but they'll be OK."

Tom secretly watched the exchange with a frown. He was glad she had someone to confide in at school, but she really shouldn't have told Draco what she knew. Children! Making such a fuss over a little fight with muggles! He severed the connection in case things got mushy. He'd learned to endure Harry's emotions, but wouldn't subject himself to young Malfoy's.

After a while, Draco tried to change the subject: "What happened at dinner, Harry? Are you alright?" He sighed as her face closed off instantly. "Do you know what happened to Snape?" He pushed, trying to get another reaction.

"I'm tired." She said coldly, before standing and making quick strides back to the dorms.

He fell back against the cushions. That girl was a ticking time bomb.

 **xx**


	34. Unknown

"I do not believe it to be my duty to impose my beliefs on the students." Albus remained calm and patient, though he could already tell this was to be another long day. Given yesterday's catastrophic events he'd called for an early morning staff meeting to advise on how they should deal with the emotional students.

"I would never suggest you do such a thing." He responded to Aroura Sinistra's objection. Aurora was the Astronomy teacher and newly appointed Head of Slytherin House – she was generally neutral when it came to the constant struggle between Light and Dark, but his only other option to replace Severus was Narcissa Malfoy, and that was far too risky. Bad enough that he had these four most certainly dark wizards in his school at such a time as this: he really didn't need any of them in a position of mentoring the students more than necessary. "I merely wish for you to help curb any dangerous thinking." The Slytherins would likely be the first to accept and promulgate Tom's propaganda, so he needed a way to quell such thinking. The world beyond the walls of Hogwarts was a mess, but Albus was be damned if he allowed fear and hate to freely spread here.

"'Dangerous thinking'?" Moritz Gabor repeated with well-presented scorn. The potions master spoke with a heavy German accent, even after his last seven years at Durmstrang and English fluency. "Do you hear yourself? Surely _that_ is the most dangerous thinking of all, especially at a school." Albus' eyes flickered over the other new recruits before settling back on Gabor. He didn't know too much about the man, but his obvious derision towards the headmaster and time at Durmstrang told Albus he might just turn out to be the biggest problem of the four.

"Moritz, I ask that you remember that the Dark Arts are not tolerated here at Hogwarts and that we do not discriminate against muggleborns, and that you comport yourself accordingly." Muggleborns weren't even permitted entry to Durmstrang, so he would have to keep an eye on how Gabor treated those under his care.

"You only make your children weaker by denying them knwledge. But don't worry." Gabor scoffed. "I know what I signed up for – I will play my part." He reassured. And he would: He had sworn fealty to the Dark Lord and His orders were for Gabor to stay at Hogwarts for the foreseeable future, so he could do nothing to give the old man an excuse to dismiss him.

Satisfied that was the best he would get, Albus turned his hard gaze to the other additions to his staff. "Good. I hope we can all agree that as professors at Hogwarts, our loyalty should always be to the school and her students." He looked across to Narcissa as he finished speaking, who returned his fierce stare with an icy and unconcerned look of her own.

"You well know, Dumbledore, that my loyalty had always been, and will always be, first and foremost to my children." She sharply responded to his silent accusation, only realising her slip when his brow furrowed.

Albus wasn't one to keep up with societal gossip, but surely he would have heard if the Malfoys had had another child.

Seeing his confusion, Narcissa straightened out a non-existent crease in her skirt. "I mean my loyalty is to Draco, and now those children in my care." She amended carefully. Albus didn't believe that was what she meant at all, but as the bell rang to summon the school to breakfast, he let it go – maybe she had been playing away, or maybe that niece of theirs was actually a closer relation than they let on, but all the same it wasn't really any of his business and he certainly had more important things to worry about.

* * *

As the bell rang, the first year Slytherin friends stood together in the common room.

"What are we waiting for?" Daphne asked impatiently – she wasn't particularly hungry, but desperately wanted to see what was going on with the other students, to see if they had any more information and to get a look at the _Prophet._ Judging by the looks on her friends faces she wasn't the only one.

Draco looked back to the girls' dorm in a not so subtle manner. "We should ask Potter to accompany us." He tried. He really didn't want to leave her alone given the circumstances and the discord her sorting had created. Who knows what the Dark Lord would do to him if he failed to protect her on the very first day, and besides that he was worried about her – she should have been up and ready by now.

"Yes, we don't want the Gryffindors to get their grubby little claws into her." Theo added, understanding Draco's concern and intention all too well.

"Who cares what she does? Being famous won't protect her from what's coming!" Millicent proclaimed to various murmurs of agreement that the Dark Lord would kill her soon. Seeing the others were getting impatient, Draco and Theo looked to each other for help, but neither could think of a reasonable excuse to stay and so were thankful when Pansy stepped in.

"You go ahead. I'll make sure she gets to breakfast without being accosted."

"Pansy…" Draco started – he didn't trust the young heiress not to do something nasty. She hated Harriet Potter, and though that hatred was more to do with his sister's fame than her part in Voldemort's defeat, it was still dangerous.

"Don't worry. We should keep her close; otherwise she'll run off to someone else and won't be so accessible…" She let her sentence hang in the air, but the boys at least understood her intentions and tried not to react. It seemed as though Pansy was suggesting they could keep her close in order to hand her over to Voldemort or something, and they grimaced to imagine how that would go.

All the same, seeing no other choice they acquiesced to being dragged out, telling themselves that if Harry wasn't in the Great Hall in twenty minutes they would come back to make sure she was ok.

Harry swotted away the hand that shoved her shoulder.

"No, that's not a bushel!" She cried, half asleep.

"What?" Pansy rolled her eyes at the incoherent muttering. "If you want apples you need to get up and get to breakfast."

Finally, Harry's eyes cracked open as her mind processed that she was being spoken to. "Hey, Pans. What time is it?" She asked while sitting up and stretching.

"Late. Hurry up!" Her friend snapped with a frown at Harry's overly familiar address – as though fame gave her the right to believe everyone liked her.

Ten minutes later the two girls walked, a little lost, through the hallways. There were so many things Harry wanted to chat about, but she couldn't think of anything that wouldn't give away their previous association.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" She finally asked dumbly.

"I'm not!" Pansy defended, haughtily throwing a lock of hair over her shoulder. "I'm just curious about the _great_ Harry Potter. So far you aren't living up to anyone's expectations." It was true: she was a Slytherin and appeared to share the Slytherin view of yesterday's events.

"Well, I'd hate to be predictable." Harry grinned, trying to ignore the stares and whispers that followed her every step. She wanted to shoot off a couple of hexes to make them stop!

"If you don't want attention, maybe you shouldn't put your face on the front of every magazine and paper." Pansy said snidely as she noticed Harry's discomfort.

"Well I didn't want to…" They arrived at their destination, but before entering Harry turned to Pansy. "How do I look?" She asked to change the subject and because she knew how much the other girl liked dressing people up.

"Your hair's a mess." Pansy didn't wait for a reply before taking it upon herself to clip the stray locks to Harry's mane and fiddling until she was satisfied with the result. "There, now we can walk in together." She declared arrogantly, while Harry just smiled.

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was electric. Maybe that was due to her company, but Harry could taste the excitement in the air. Her friends had overcome their shock for the most part and were now proclaiming the rightness of the situation and suggesting the muggleborns should be sent away to share the fate of their families. The air around those muggleborns was almost an antithesis of that around the Slytherin table. Most looked like they'd been up all night crying, and Harry heard more than a few expressing their desire to go home – the younger ones to make sure their parents were ok, and the older ones to protect them. The ministry though was having none of it and last night an emergency notion had been passed in the Wizengamot to make attendance at Hogwarts mandatory for all school aged wizards and witches. There was no way these children would be able to concentrate with such heavy worries playing on their minds and it was likely the muggleborns would perform badly this term.

The mail arrived and those with a subscription to the _Prophet_ were more than happy to share the paper once they were finished with it, and soon the whole school had heard Tom's words. Harry found it strange to have so many people suddenly aware of Tom, and to be talking about him so openly – he'd been a secret from her friends the whole time she'd known them. This strange feeling was a good thing though, for it kept her quiet, and from spouting out information she shouldn't have, or else correcting people's assumptions.

When a paper was finally passed to Harry, her heart dropped to see the desolation where the Houses of Parliament once stood. The smouldering wreck was the main imagine on the front page and sent a nasty twinge of guilt and sadness through her tummy. Any loss of life that resulted from Tom's actions was intangible, it was hard to visualise or comprehend, but this was something solid, something she could see. She felt herself grieving its loss – all that history gone. All those people now long dead who had walked through that glorious place. The milestone decisions reached. The kings and peasants that had shaped England from its chambers…

"Fancied a lie in, Potter?" Draco asked with an unconcerned air, dragging her attention back to the present.

* * *

"You can't be serious?!" Remus' disbelief was momentarily interrupted when he noticed the grin on his friend's face. "Don't even! That joke died the first time you used it." He snapped, though even at this dreadful time he couldn't completely hide his amusement – the 'no I'm Sirius' joke would never really die, and Remus felt a fond appreciation for the familiar, stupid joke.

Sirius smiled, trying to keep things light. He didn't want to fall out with his last remaining friend, but knew it was a possibility with emotions running high because of the seriousness of what happened. "I told you already: I'm not going to fight. Please respect that."

"But that was before." Remus countered. "We need you now. The Order needs you."

"And where was the Order when I needed them?" Said Sirius, rather more viciously than he'd meant to. "You have no idea what it's like to be abandoned to such despair, to feel like your soul is being destroyed with every waking moment." Sirius ran a hand over his face as he remembered that hellish place. "Merlin, if it wasn't for…" He quickly snapped his mouth shut, hardly able to believe what he was about to say, though knowing deep inside that it was true, that if it wasn't for the treatment he'd received after his term in Azkaban he'd be crazy wreck. The Dark Lord hadn't done it for his sake of course, but all the same he was actually grateful that he had.

"Sirius…" He looked back to Remus. His friend looked tired, even more so than usual. "You're right; I can't even imagine what you've been through." The werewolf would never forgive himself for doubting his friend. "But this is bigger than us. We have to act now."

"Why? What's done is done, and unless you know something I don't, there is nothing we can do for the muggles."

"So you're willing to let Voldemort take control of the world? What about our own people? What do you think will become of our society?" Remus tried to reason.

"Let them fight for themselves for once." The dark haired man knew he'd have to have this conversation sooner or later, but wished Remus would drop it. He got up to pour himself a whiskey.

"Well then what about Harry?!" He couldn't believe Sirius was being like this. Where had his fire gone? His spirit? The Sirius he knew would have fought to his last breath and preferred to go out in a blaze of glory than admit defeat.

"Harry's safe at Hogwarts. And besides, Voldemort seems to be busy with other things. I doubt he still wants to kill her."

Remus' disbelief returned with force. "You can't truly believe that? You must know he'll hurt her as soon as the opportunity presents itself!"

"He won't." Sirius scoffed. "Look, Remus, can't you see it's hopeless? Why sacrifice your life to a lost cause?"

"You'd rather submit to Voldemort? After everything he's done? Everything he will do?" Sirius sighed. He wished he could tell his friend the real reason for his apathy. "Damnit Sirius! Are you just going to hide out here for the rest of your life? Just sit back and watch Voldemort destroy everything you believe in?"

"I believe in Harry. I'll do what it takes to keep her safe." Remus couldn't understand how Sirius didn't equate that statement with fighting Voldemort. When he opened his mouth to object Sirius continued: "I'm not going to change my mind. I hope you'll join me, but I'll respect your decision if you choose to fight, so please respect mine."

He was sure that if his friend submitted he'd be safe. Harry liked the man, and that alone was a type of protection that couldn't be achieved via magic or money.

If only he could share this, he wouldn't have to lose his friend.


	35. Subversion

Harry was enjoying school. Annoyingly though, even the turmoil out in the muggle world and the return of the Dark Lord didn't dissuade Harry's fans from constantly bothering her, and half the whispered conversations in the hallways where about Harriet Potter – either about how great she was or about how dead she was. It made her uncomfortable and it made her friends jealous, but she tried to endure it because everyone told her the fascination would die down after a while. Only once had she snapped and hexed a few giggling third years, but thankfully Aehart had been the only adult witness and so there were no consequences, and Tom didn't mind what she did to the other students as long as she didn't get into any trouble.

Dumbledore had shown up during several of her classes, apparently to assess the aptitude of the new teachers, though no one in the know believed that's what he was assessing. For the most part he'd been a silent observer, only speaking up once during Narcissa's lesson. Harry still felt offended on her behalf:

In order to ease the students into such a heavily academic subject, Narcissa decided to start with something close to home: the founding of Hogwarts. It was a significant event in Britain's magical history, for it brought together wizards from every class and ensured educational equality. She told the headmaster that it was a topic easily applicable to modern times, but that was his problem entirely.

After briefly discussing the strengths each founder brought to the school, she asked whether anyone knew the reason for their falling out. "Yes, Miss Granger." She called on the only muggleborn present who seemed in any way interested. Most were simply going through the motions.

"Salazar Slytherin disagreed with the others about who should be admitted to the school. He believed muggleborns were unworthy of learning magic." Hermione replied in a clear and confident tone, as though her mere presence could prove him wrong.

"You are half right. Who can correct Miss Granger?" Several Slytherin hands went up, while Hermione's mouth dropped open in disbelief that a teacher had just told her she was wrong. She wasn't wrong! Draco did not raise his hand – no power on this earth could make him raise his hand during his mother's class! "Miss Potter."

Harry straightened up and tried to ignore the intense scrutiny of her peers. "History tells us Slytherin called muggleborns untrustworthy." She turned to look at the mudblood Gryffindor. "He thought them unworthy of trust." She said pointedly. "There's nothing to tell us whether he believed them to be worthy of magic."

"Correct, Miss Potter." Narcissa praised, drawing everyone's attention back to the front of the room. "And if we put into context the time in which the founders lived, we can clearly see why he might have come to believe this. When considering anything from the past, we must first look at the context, to see how the writing or item might have been influenced by events and beliefs of the time. In this case, the reason why the school was established in the first place is important. It was in the middle a time that muggles refer to as the medieval era, or Middle Ages, when they were developing rapidly; England possessed a strong military with sophisticated weaponry, suffered turbulent politics, endured Norman and Viking invasions, fought crusades… In this troubled environment the muggle religions held powerful sway and 'witchcraft' was persecuted most severely. Many magical beings were killed, along with many muggles who had been wrongly accused. Therefore the witches and wizards we now refer to as The Founders sought to create a safe place for magical children to learn – far from the many dangers that muggles posed. Hogwarts was purpose built to be a place of education, but as you can clearly see, this castle is a fortress.

"With this in mind, it is easy to see why Slytherin might not wish to permit entrance to those with close ties to the muggle world. With every muggleborn that came to the school came the risk of exposure; of both our world and of the school. To the muggles, having a wizard in the family would be a terrible thing, a heresy, and muggleborn children themselves had been raised to believe so. Slytherin was concerned a muggleborn student might be utilized to cleanse the school, the world, of our kind. He also did not want to make them strong, only for them to return to the muggle world, to which many remained loyal: they might want to use magic to protect muggles in conflicts, or help their towns prosper. And if the truth of our existence got out, the situation would become most… volatile – all those children under Slytherin's care would be in harm's way. Salazar Slytherin found this risk unacceptable." She went on, having to make up much of her speech as she went along, because until Dumbledore turned up she was planning to cover this topic in a more damning fashion.

Dumbledore frowned as Narcissa Malfoy lectured on the positives of keeping muggleborn children separate from those raised in the wizarding world. She was careful to keep blood purity out of her argument, which was a shame because he could have easily challenged her on that.

He waited for her to finish before speaking: "If I may? I believe for the sake of balance, it's also important to note that the three remaining Founders didn't share this view, and a thousand years of peace suggests they were right." He suspected the new teachers would try to spin their own views into their lesson plans, but wouldn't let her get away with telling one side of the story while he was sitting right there. It was worrisome though: just what would she teach them when he wasn't present?

"As you say." Narcissa conceded gracefully. "And of course we have an entire governmental department dedicated to keeping our people hidden: to cleaning up the mess left by those families who have disagreeable reactions and loose lips." She spoke in her usual even tone, but it was obvious that she believed the peace had been achieved only due to such agencies.

Keeping her head down to hide her grin, Harry listened as Narcissa continued the lesson.

* * *

" _Hey Tom, I've been thinking."_ At midnight on Wednesday Harry and her friends had been taken up to the astronomy tower to stare at the stars. It was boring, and lately Harry couldn't cope with boredom so she'd reached out to Tom.

" _Oh dear."_ He replied, as though such a thing was frightfully dangerous.

" _Hey!"_ Huffing quietly, Harry carried on despite his lack of faith. _"I've been thinking about the animals, you know, in zoos and stuff."_

Tom took a deep breath to prepare him for whatever ridiculous thing she'd gotten into her head now. _"Ok, here we go: what about zoos Harry?"_ All around her Harry could hear the soft scratching of quill on parchment as the other students wrote down their observations, so she absently penned the names of a few stars on her own parchment so it looked like she was studying.

" _Well, someone needs to feed the animals or they'll die. I've thought about it a lot,"_ Tom wanted to interrupt – to point out how he would hope she'd have other things to think about at a school, but she was on a role. _"And you could erect barriers and wards around them, and find the zoo keepers or vets or whatever and have them move into the warded areas, like, maybe offer them and their families' sanctuary in exchange for taking care of the animals, and then deliver food to them. Oh, or I guess if anyone has a spare elf they could do it actually, and then if there's any…"_

" _Harry,"_ He cut in with a long suffering sigh, _"They're wild animals – don't you think it would be easier to simply turn them free?"_ The years had long passed since he stopped wondering how she managed to drag him, Lord Voldemort, into such silly, inconsequential conversations.

She thought for a moment, supposing it was the easiest option, and therefore giving in begrudgingly. _"I guess, but what are elephants going to eat in the middle of Londo… OH! Yes! We could get a tiger!"_

Tom was silent for a while as her excitement fizzled through his mind. How the hell had she gleaned _that_ from what he'd said? _"Absolutely not!"_ His tone was sharp and final, and were he speaking with anyone else that would have been the end of it… but this was Harry he was dealing with, and unless they were discussing something serious, she took that tone as a starting point for negotiation.

" _There's enough room at home…"_

" _Did you miss the part about them being wild animals? What on earth would you do with a tiger?"_ He almost gave up trying to reason with her as snippets of her insane ideas flickered through his mind. Before she contacted him, he'd been considering which of his followers he'd be sending to Germany. Germany had been the first country in Western Europe – in the area he was most concerned with – whose government had voted in favour of assisting the muggles. Of course this decision hadn't been actioned, because on the night of the vote the people he had hidden there killed many of the top officials, and so now new leadership had to be arranged before they could undertake such an enormous task. Due to the aggression initiated by his people, the new government would not be decided through politics alone; this would get violent, and at the moment the dark wizards capable of fighting were outnumbered in Germany. So he would have to send back up to ensure things went his way. And it's not as though Germany was his only problem right now! For one thing, The Order had disrupted his men during a little celebratory muggle hunting, and though he'd ensured this was kept out of mainstream media, one or two smaller outfits were reporting on it – it wasn't something that would help convince the people to join him. Once he'd taken power he'd no longer have to concern himself with such trifling matters.

Given all this, he was sorely tempted to just give in to Harry's nonsense so he could get back to work. Really: the whole world turned on its head and she was thinking about zoos…

" _Nagini would eat it."_ He argued valiantly.

" _Tell her they're poisonous."_

" _It would eat_ you _."_

" _It would have its own habitat. And we could train it."_

" _You're away most of the year – you'd not even see it."_

" _I'll be home sometimes. I'll be home at Christmas – you could get me a tiger for Christmas!"_

" _I've already gotten your Christmas present."_

"… _you have?"_ Oh oh, Tom thought, he'd let that slip out and now she'd never stop hounding him for clues.

Tom never gave Christmas or birthday gifts. At least not physical things. He'd get Harry gifts if he came across something she might like, a godfather for example, but they were given at any point throughout the year. On special occasions he would normally give her what she most wanted from him: time. He'd take her out somewhere they couldn't be disturbed. This year however he'd come across something special, and seeing as he wouldn't be able give it to her until she came home for Christmas, decided he'd give it as a holiday gift.

" _Is it..?"_

" _Harry, pay attention to your teacher and learn the stars."_

* * *

By the time Friday rolled around Harry had decided she liked all her teachers – from what she'd seen of them so far at least. Moore was a little to-the-point professional, but Harry's natural interest in DADA made up for his lack of motivation. Gabor was a man she thought would get along well with the Death Eaters back home, and she kept getting this funny mental image of him lounging at his desk with a cigar and beer – she'd laughed when that thought entered her mind, but he'd silenced her with one stern look. He seemed pretty laid back for the most part, taking time to explain the whys and hows when necessary, however he was quick to meet out punishments when his standards weren't met during brewing: he'd kicked one Gryffindor out of his class, given detention to another, and had taken points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin during their class together – though not from Harry of course, even after she accidentally knocked over the nettles. At the end of the lesson she heard him telling the boy who'd received detention that their extra time together would be spent going over the material from that class, so maybe even his punishments weren't that bad.

And then, just when Harry was preparing to celebrate having survived the first week of school together with her friends, Dumbledore had reared his ugly head again, this time asking to speak with her privately.

After dinner, Harry walked in silence beside the headmaster as he led them to his office, wondering whether it was worth the risk of calling to Tom and quickly deciding it wasn't.

Albus was worried. He'd been worried all week, even in his broken, stressful dreams. Nothing was playing out the way he'd expected. Tom's dramatic return had caught him off guard, and now so had little Harriet. Having been raised by muggles and shortly by Sirius Black, he'd expected her to be righteously upset by recent events, but she didn't seem too bothered by them at all. He'd been surprised when he returned to the school to find she'd been sorted into Slytherin. Though he tried not to judge her for it, knowing House prejudice was foolish, but then she'd fallen easily in step with her housemates and befriended the children of Death Eaters. Had Sirius not informed her what a risk that could be? That people like them were the ones who tried to kill her earlier in the year? Given Voldemort's return, he was sure the other Slytherins would at least act hatefully towards her, but from what he could tell they were all getting along well. He was also concerned to see Potter so eagerly helping Narcissa make her point during History. If she had simply answered the question he could have put this down to the child wanting to be a good student, but the way she looked at Granger suggested she might actually believe Slytherin was right. Sirius would never have taught her to think this way. To explain all this his working theory was that Azkaban had damaged Sirius more than he'd let on, that he hadn't warned Harry, and that it was therefore up to Albus to do so.

"Please, Harry, take a seat."

* * *

 **xx**


	36. Avoidance

Harry looked around the cluttered office as she sat. She'd been told the man was a bit eccentric, and given his outrageous robes and the state of his office, she was inclined to agree. Nothing seemed to have its place. Odd little noises filled the air and curious, moving objects were scattered about on small side tables. She thought Tom's office could be a mess sometimes, but even then everything had its purpose and place. Did all those annoying sounds mean something to the headmaster? "How have you found your first week at Hogwarts?" He set a pleasant, friendly tone.

"I'm enjoying school, Mr Dumbledore" She said, a little formerly for his tastes.

"It's 'professor' now, Harry." He corrected with a friendly smile and eyes that twinkled kindly. Harry shifted in her seat. "And you aren't having any trouble with your fellow students?"

"Well, some of them are a bit much." She replied awkwardly. "Some of them want my autograph. It's weird."

"It's not often we have a celebrity student – you must forgive them their curiosity." He indulged the complaint, even though that wasn't what he'd meant at all. With the return of Voldemort he imagined her main peer related problem would be a general hostility from her house mates. "And you're not experiencing any issues with your housemates?" He ventured the question.

Harry knew what he meant, knew she probably should have been having issues. Should she lie? No, he'd tell if she was lying, so she told the truth, just a little more sorrowfully than necessary. "I guess a few can be a bit hateful sometimes, but Sirius said I should be understanding; said that a lot of Slytherins might be afraid of what Voldemort would do if they were too friendly. It's ok though – it's just words." Ok, so maybe a mix of lies and truth: it was Tom who said to be patient for the sake of maintaining her cover, and it wasn't ok for anyone to speak that way to Harriet because she'd become unaccustomed to it. She endured by picturing the look on their faces when the truth of her allegiance came out.

"Well, let's hope so." Albus wouldn't put it past Tom to use a child to get at Harriet. "You call him Voldemort?" He gave no outward indication of his surprise, but Harry knew instantly she'd made a mistake. She'd been so focused on not calling Tom 'The Dark Lord' like she was used to doing. "I'm impressed by your bravery, even after your attack – most people still do not dare speak his name." That wasn't really the problem though, and she knew it. "And you drop the 't'? That's something I've not heard done in a long time."

"Yes, well," Even Sirius struggled to say 'Voldemort' after Azkaban, so she wasn't sure she could blame this one on him. She thought quickly for something else to say. "Well, if you're using a name to show defiance, you might as well use it right. It's like the, erm, you know, the Divine Name from the Bible: people were too superstitious to use it and so eventually the pronunciation was lost forever. I don't think Voldemort should be given the same fate – he's not a god."

To her immense relief, Dumbledore seemed happy with her response. He was certainly pleased to witness her bravery and defiance, though even if her point was that he was not a god, he was a little unnerved that she'd even make that comparison.

He spent the rest of their time together advising her to be extra vigilant, letting her know who to go to should anything happen (though he assured her throughout that every precaution had been taken), and finally handing over James Potter's invisibility cloak.

"I hope you will always keep this close, as it will prove invaluable should you ever need to hide." She took the fabric with careful hands and wide eyes. She didn't have anything of her parents, so this was incredible. The fact that it was an invisibility cloak just made it all the more wonderful. But why did Dumbledore have it?

"I could have used this back at Privet Drive." She told him with a frown that he readily returned. It seemed nothing he did could make this girl give him an inch!

* * *

Harriet walked with Draco, Theo and Pansy along the dark empty corridors, with only a single lantern to light their way. It was late Friday night, and the four students had snuck out, easily missed by the older students during their back to school party in the common room – by this point the prefects were too drunk to realise a few first years were out of bed.

"I swear Potter; you spend all your spare time thinking up ways to get us into trouble!" Draco groused, lifting the light higher to try and get a glimpse through the darkness.

"I do not. You just have no sense of adventure." Harry defended, trying to shrug off the uncomfortable unfamiliarity of being called Potter again, even though that name had been called almost none stop since she arrived. Everyone wanted something from her and it was annoying as hell. "Besides, I know the staff patrol rota, so we won't get into any trouble." Whatever Draco said, she could tell he wanted to sneak out after curfew as much as she did. He just wanted the excuse that he had at least tried to stop her, should anything go wrong.

Pansy made a very unladylike noise. "Of course, the Great Harry Potter is given privileged information."

"Well yeh," Harry grinned mischievously. "The old man thinks I might be in danger. He told me who might be about should I ever need help." The darkness hid the boys as their eyes rolled and their heads shook. Pansy glared. She'd already ascertained that Potter didn't feel any threat from Voldemort's return and therefore knew it was pointless to contradict the girl. And she knew there was something off about Potter, and not just because of this lack of fear. For one thing, Harry and Draco got along well. Lucius Malfoy must have had something to do with the recent attacks, so why his son would act so friendly towards the Dark Lord's enemy was a mystery to her. At any other time she'd have assumed he was trying to take advantage of her fame, but that was too dangerous right now. More than that though, they seemed familiar with one another, and more disturbing still, Pansy felt a familiarity to Potter: her mannerisms and the way she spoke made her believe that maybe they'd met before. She wanted to call the other girl out on this, but never quite knew what to say without sounding like an idiot.

"Where are we going anyway?" Pansy asked, and Harry listened absently while suggestions were bounced around. She didn't care where they went; she just wanted to get out for a bit.

Meeting with the old man had left her feeling edgy, and first she'd tried venting to Tom, but he didn't have time for her tonight:

" _I'll speak with you tomorrow, Harry." He'd said, causing her to scowl at the empty air in front of her._

" _I just had a meeting with Dumbledore." She told him vindictively. She knew he'd make time now! He made her recount everything in detail, and apart from the odd derogatory comment here and there, he listened quietly. Until she told him about her father's cloak – He seemed very interested in that._

" _He said it belonged to your father? That's hard to believe; invisibility cloaks degrade quickly."_

" _Why would he lie?" Neither she nor Tom could think of a reason._

" _Would you allow me to take a look at it?" Tom asked, and of course she was happy to share it with him. "Thank you. Pass it to Narcissa and she can bring it home this weekend." She wouldn't need the additional security any time soon._

" _Can I come home for the weekend?" Harry asked hopefully. She'd really like to go home for a while. She needed to see Tom and everyone, and just get away from this place for a short while. She needed a break and the comfort of home._

" _That's not how it works, Harry. I have to go. You'll be fine."_

" _Wait! I'm sure I could just come home for a day. Please?" She felt like crying and she knew she'd feel better at home. She could be quiet at home…_

" _No, Harry. If you come home, you're staying home. If you want to attend Hogwarts, attend Hogwarts and come home in the holidays."_

Tom didn't get it. He'd been really nice about Snape, but he didn't get it. So now, on top of everything she felt a little abandoned. She didn't care if he was busy! Because of all this though she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep for a while and hated the quiet of the dorms, which was why she'd dragged her friends out here in the first place.

"What about the third floor?" She suggested when no one gave any better options.

"Absolutely not!" Theo whispered harshly.

"You never learn, do you?" Draco added. "You're not actually immortal, you know?" _Well…_

"I'm with Harry." Pans said to everyone's surprise. "I doubt whatever is up there is really dangerous. We should find out what Dumbledore is hiding." She bet it was something valuable! The boys were adamant about not going though, so in the end they just explored in the dark, while chatting easily amongst themselves.

They were about ready to head back, when they came across a room not too far from the library that held the most peculiar mirror. The four approached it cautiously.

"What does 'erised stra eh-ehru oy-outu' – you know what, I can't even read it!" Pansy gave up trying to read the inscription and stepped up to see her reflection, imagining she didn't look her best right now.

She was wrong; she looked amazing! Her reflection was older, and so beautiful. Her hair was delicately dressed in an up do, and she wore the most stunning white lace and satin gown. An older Draco stood beside her, looking dapper in a suit sculpted by the gods. It was their wedding! She stared at the image with wide excited eyes? Was this the future?!

"Pansy, what is it?" Harry asked. Her friend had been frozen in place for a while now and she was a little worried. Pansy's head snapped in her direction, before quickly ducking away as a bright crimson blush spread across her face.

"The mirror's incredible – take a look." She said, quickly stepping away from both the mirror and the boys. The others shared a look of confusion before Theo stepped forward.

"Oh wow!" he said. "Is this the future?" The mirror showed him sitting at home with his mum and dad. It was a simple scene, but meant a lot. Since his father's return he'd spent a great deal of time at home, but he couldn't live there in case he was caught. Theo wanted his family back together more than anything!

"I don't think so." Draco spoke up to correct his friend's assumption. "The inscription is backwards. It says: 'I show not your face but your heart's desire.'" Harry looked up to check his theory, not that she really doubted him – Draco was the smartest one present.

"So, it's just showing us what we want to see?" Theo asked sadly, stepping away with something like defeat. "What do you see?" He asked Draco.

Draco wasn't sure he even wanted to know what the mirror would show him, but he was too curious not to take a peek. He was older in his reflect too, and stood proud and strong beside his father and the Dark Lord. He could have guessed he'd see something like this. He so wanted to prove himself, to live up to his father's expectations and become the right hand man of Voldemort himself. Right now he was too afraid to even be in the same room as the man!

"What do you see?" Pansy asked.

Draco scoffed and walked away. "What did _you_ see?" He returned. Nobody else was sharing and he wasn't going to either. "Harry?"

Not seeing any harm in it, Harry walked up and took a deep breath. Nothing happened. Nothing. There was nothing in the mirror – not even her own reflection. Was it broken? Was Harry broken?! She wanted things! Right now she wanted to go home!

"This is stupid." She said eventually. "This mirror is meaningless. Let's go."

"Are you ok?" Draco could see Harry was upset about something.

"Yes. Actually you guys go back. I just need to do something first." She thought she might as well visit Narcissa now. Otherwise she's have to go in the morning when there was a greater risk she'd be seen. She really wanted to see her anyway.

"We'll come…"

"No, it's ok. I promise." She tried to reassure the boys, because they were obviously uncomfortable about leaving her alone.

She made short work of finding Narcissa's rooms and knocked softly. She might have gotten lost a great many times this week, but Tom had made her memorise the route to his people at Hogwarts, just in case.

"Harry?" Narcissa was dressed for bed, her long blonde hair falling freely over one shoulder, but still looking as refined as ever. "What are you doing here? You should be in bed." She said with a frown, but opened the door to let the girl in even as she reprimanded. "Are you ok?"

Harry didn't want to answer that question again and so handed over the cloak. "Could you take this back with you for the Dark Lord?" Narcissa answered in the affirmative as she folded the item carefully. Harry stood awkwardly. She didn't want to leave. "Erm, He said I can't go home."

Narcissa understood that Harry must have been feeling homesick. The sadness that lingered over her before school hadn't diminished either. She led Harry over to the seating area and sat on the sofa. "Come on." She said, patting the seat beside her. And Harry readily obeyed. She tucked her legs beneath herself and leaned against the woman, taking comfort as an arm held her close.

"Do you miss Lucius?" Harry did very much. Draco loved being away from home and was annoyed his mother was at Hogwarts. Harry felt the opposite.

"Yes, though I will see him tomorrow. I have both Saturday and Sunday off this week, so with any luck the ministry will leave him alone for at least a few hours." Harry smiled. Lucius was always in demand and being disturbed at home due to his seniority in government, as well as in Tom's ranks, though Narcissa was tactful enough not to mention that source of intrusion.

After chatting together for some time, Harry fell asleep peacefully.

 **xx**


	37. Shift

Harry slammed her hands down in frustration, causing a loud, ungodly roar of protest to bounce around the sparse room. She might have winced at the jarring noise, if not for the short, sharp tsk of her music instructor, which pulled her attention to the deep frown lines that mapped across his face. She could almost hear his words before his mouth began to form them; no doubt they would consist of another reminder to respect one's instrument.

"It's impossible!" She whined quickly, effectively precluding his reprimand.

"As a Briahna Master of over fifty years, I can assure you it is entirely possible. Now, where is your right fourth finger supposed to be?" Mr Grantham tried to press on, but his calm, patient demeanour only stoked Harry's frustration, and so even though she knew she was just being petulant at this point, she couldn't help but take her hand from the ivory keys altogether and lay them pointedly on her lap.

"It's impossible for _me_!" She snapped. She felt like slamming her hands again, but the resulting sound truly was awful, so awful in fact that she idly wondered why Tom didn't use it as a form of punishment.

"It certainly will be with that attitude." Again the man didn't raise his voice, or respond with anything more than words and somehow, a deepening of those folds across his aged face. Harry was feeling so aggravated after the last half an hour trying to tease out any kind of pleasant sound from her instrument, that she felt on the verge of angry tears. She didn't know how he could just stand there so unaffected.

Mr Grantham had been teaching the Briahna for over thirty years. It was a notoriously difficult instrument to master, and so he was utterly desensitised to fits of temper and tantrums from wizards much older than the famous Potter child. He'd lost count of how many times his pupils had drawn their wands on him during lessons – as though their own lack of skill was somehow his fault. He had never taught anyone this young before though, because the instrument required a certain level of control over one's own magic that didn't usually manifest until well into adulthood, if at all. The Briahna was much like a Piano in appearance, and one of its sounds came from the same application of keys and strings as its more common counterpart. However unlike a Piano, the ivories were infused to draw out and conduct a person's magic in the same way as a wand, though to a much gentler, subtler degree. When played correctly, the direction of magic and even the type of touch to the ivories created a sound similar to the muggle Theremin (the loss of which was the only thing Mr Grantham found himself mourning after the events of the 1st September). The two sounds played together from a single instrument were hauntingly beautiful, but it was so difficult that whenever he agreed to teach, most of his time was spent wishing for temporary deafness.

He had a feeling this would not be the case with the Potter Princess however. She could already play the piano at a level typical for her age, and had made huge strides in only this short month he'd been seeing her, even though she'd tried to quit several times. Lord Black was paying the considerable cost of her tuition, and he'd had several conversations with Lady Malfoy while at Hogwarts in which she'd stressed any protests, or attempts to walk out on Potter's part should be ignored. His professional reputation was pretty untouchable, but gaining the acclaim and, dare he wish, sponsorship of two such powerful families was worth making the effort with this promising child.

"It took me five years to reach a point where I dared play even simple pieces in front of other people. And I was well into my thirties at that time." He decided to try a little encouragement. "You were warned the Briahna was a long term endeavour in our first lesson. If you are not up to the challenge, you should not have taken it up."

Harry scowled. The Challenge. That was the reason she'd asked to learn the stupid, impossible instrument! She'd wanted the challenge. Wanted to feel she could accomplish something impressive. Tom didn't play any instrument, and she was giddy at the idea of accomplishing something he hadn't. She was an idiot! She should have signed up for the piano or violin with her friends – surely they were difficult enough! Now Narcissa was refusing to let her change her mind. Her adoptive mother hated her, she thought.

"Ok." With a defeated sigh, Harry returned her focus to the tauntingly blank keys.

By the time her two hours of hell were up, Harry wanted to blow off some steam, so she walked down to the courtyard and met up with the girls.

The Board of Governors had forced Dumbledore to open up the school for extracurricular studies over the weekends. At first, the cautious old man had been paranoid about what these additional classes would entail. That the request had come around the same time as Voldemort's return didn't sit at all well with him, and he imagined the school being turned into a Death Eater training camp every weekend, which was something he would obviously never allow. He was primarily concerned with the lessons his new staff members had offered to teach for free – a red flag if ever there was one – but so far they seemed harmless enough. There had been no discrimination either. Even the dance classes Narcissa Malfoy was offering twice a month were open to muggleborn students. It was odd, and a little unsettling in itself – surely Malfoy would never condescend to volunteer her time to 'mudbloods' unless there was some outside force compelling her to do so. Even then, Tom must have had some scheme behind this bizarre tolerance.

His only real concerns so far, however, came from the physical education Moore and Gabor were providing. He invisibly observed every lesson so far, and so far it only seemed to consist of aerobic exercise, stamina training perhaps. Stamina was clearly vital during prolonged battles, but given all the other benign clubs, maybe it really was simply about improving fitness. He imagined Tom must be incredible busy arranging the eradication of muggles and domination of the wizarding world, and though the man surely had plans for Hogwarts, arranging simple little extracurriculars was likely beneath his notice, and unworthy of his time. Why would Lord Voldemort care what the students were being offered at a time like this? Maybe he didn't really have any part in this dramatic change. Maybe arranging arts and language etc. classes in order to hide one class that strengthened a bunch of children who may or may not one day grow up to fight for him was a stretch too far. Maybe.

The duelling club might have made him worry if not for the fact it was being run by Flitwick. On several occasions Albus had found himself monitoring the club to see how well his older students were able to fight. He despaired that it had come to this – to assessing risks from the children he was responsible for educating.

"Maybe we should join the PE club too?" Harry suggested, as Draco and Theo joined them on the stone benches.

"Not a chance." Pansy declared surely, and was quickly backed up by Daphne and Millie.

"Yes, why on earth would you want to get so gross and sweaty every morning?"

"I don't even know why you two bother!" Millicent said to the boys. It wasn't like them at all – there was something a little undignified about exercising.

"It's a great way to keep fit." Draco said pompously. In truth, he'd never willingly choose to run around the lake and get so disgusting! It wasn't his choice at all though. As he and Theodore were the students closest to Harry, the Dark Lord wanted them strong, and even on the mornings when he was just about ready to curse Voldemort and accept the consequences, Draco could still begrudgingly acknowledge that being a focus of the man's efforts would work out for him in the long run. His father had been ordered to ensure he knew all he could in the way of defensive and offensive magic before he came to school, and Moore was ensuring him and Harry remained top of their class, as well as providing extra lessons when possible.

Harry's desire to join the boys came from that restlessness she couldn't shake. She did homework assignments before dinner on the day they were given if possible, as Narcissa had always made her do it that way, so most of her weekends provided time to simply relax with her friends, but as much as she enjoyed their company, lately she could only sit for so long before wanting to do something else.

* * *

Rodolphus Lestrange walked proudly along Diagon Alley. With his wife beside him and Cassie safely within the baby carriage that hovered a step ahead, they were an almost regal sight to behold. Which was a testament to Bella's self-control, because she was having to use every scrap of will power she possessed to keep her face serene, and not break down cackling the way she so desperately wanted to as she eyed the ants around her!

The alley wasn't too busy, so they were able to make their way easily. Not that they'd have had a problem even if it'd been mid-summer, Bella thought as her mouth threatened to break into a grin: the moment they'd stepped foot into the alley, everyone else had fallen silent. Some stared with wide frightened eyes and ran into nearby shops, while others watched tensely, preparing to defend themselves if necessary. Nevertheless, whatever their thoughts about the presence of Death Eaters at Britain's busiest shopping hub, everyone moved out of the Lestranges' path quickly. It was a good job they did, because Bella's blood vibrated with anticipation at all the wonderfully agonising curses she imagined inflicting on any person that lingered too long around her baby.

The only thing that made Bella behave was the fear of disappointing her master, and marring his brilliance. As far as the public had to know, Rod and Bella were here to visit the bank – to reclaim their accounts and belongings, to amend their wills, and to register Cassiopeia and set up a trust fund. In reality, they had been ordered here to test public opinion.

It had been almost two months since Voldemort made his return known to the world, and the muggles were playing their part in his scheme beautifully. Every country had endless reports of muggle violence. The looting had been impressive in Britain, but the somewhat carefree attitude had quickly morphed into anger towards the authorities for allowing the power to remain off for so long. But then the days continued to pass, and the anger turned to panic. At first the military had tried to distribute food and water to nearby towns, but without transportation it was almost impossible, and there was a run on what little made it to the people. The muggles doubtless had access to enough non-perishable food to sustain them for a little while if they rationed, but they weren't prepared to wait for their stocks to run low, and were already turning on each other. Some had grouped together to care for the vulnerable and share what they had, but the _Prophet_ was only reporting on the worst of humanity, like the man that killed the family of five that lived next door in order to steal their barbeque and supplies, and the gangs breaking into people's homes. The paper was never graphic, but the savagery it reported had made most wizards sufficiently afraid or disgusted with the muggles. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Then there was the case of Emma and Nathan Crawford. The half-blood witch and her muggleborn husband had attempted to assist his muggle family, as many of their kind had done, however the muggles caught wind of their witchery. Inspired by the escalating chaos, blame was thrown around and soon a mob formed to deal with those they held responsible. The couple had apparated out of harm's way, before Nathan went back for his family, thinking he could easily stun or incapacitate the muggles, but there were too many and he had been killed. In her grief, Emma had begun speaking out against those without magic, giving speeches about how she'd been misled about their true nature, and rallying people together in support of the Dark Lord, who she now saw had been right all along. So far in England Nathan was the only magical death, but there were reports of more from across the globe, and wizards were demanding that the Ministry do more to protect their citizens. Stories were circulating that the muggles had plans to raid wizarding areas – it was all nonsense, but it did feed the fear and harden the people against the muggles' plight. The lower classes were starting to join their Pureblood friends in openly calling on Lord Voldemort for reassurances. Nothing united people like a common enemy.

And so this little test was to be carried out. Tom wanted to see whether the people would have anything to say about murderers, fugitives, walking the streets in broad daylight. The people would fear his ranks, as they should, but had their thinking been changed enough for them to embrace that fear?

* * *

"There were two off duty aurors there!" Molly Weasley cried in disbelief. "Why didn't they do anything?" It was a midday, midweek meeting, and so only a handful of Order members were present in Albus' office at Hogwarts.

"What could they do? Arrest the Lestranges and their infant daughter in the middle of Diagon Alley?" Kingsley argued tiredly.

"Molly, imagine what would have happened had they tried." Remus added, though his heart wasn't in the discussion at all. Fear was being tempered by respect and hope, and Voldemort was winning support every day. Without the people and the government behind them the Order would struggle to make an impact. Maybe that was Sirius talking, he mused. The apparent defeat of his most impassioned and audacious friend had certainly affected his own motivation. "There are already movements to have the Death Eaters pardoned – acquitted, even – how would it look if the ministry attacked them? Never mind that they are now a young family; it would play right into Voldemort's propaganda."

"So we should ignore the law, just because a few disagree with the outcome?"

"It's more than a few, I'm afraid. And every government answers to a higher anarchy." Albus spoke up finally. "The ministry only serves at the pleasure of the people, and unless you wish to instigate marshal law, the people will always hold sway: to attack any Death Eater at this time would be political suicide." A decent Minister would have fallen on his sword and clamped down on Death Eater activity – something that was essential at this critical time – but they already knew Bagshot was a dark wizard, so there wasn't a chance the man would throw away his power and popularity by doing the right thing!

Albus could sympathise with the resignation starting to creep into Remus' eyes. Tom really had played this out better than he'd ever expected. The Order had been caught completely unawares by the initial attack, and things were progressing so quickly that they'd been playing catch-up ever since. Tom had forced the muggles to do most of his work for him: Society had rapidly collapsed, with chaos and anarchy taking hold. It was harrowing, and heart-breaking, and _frightening_ to watch. With the exception of those at Westminster, muggle deaths couldn't even be tied directly to Tom. Having come to rely on technology for so long, the muggles no longer kept horses and oxen in sufficient quantity to farm and distribute food to so many people, so they were looking at a massive population decrease due to starvation alone. The cities that homed people by the millions would be the most effected, because apart from what could be plundered from stores they had no food source. And of course winter was approaching…

Even so, most of the damage in the wizarding world was done long before the attack: the dark leaning media and leadership had been shifting perceptions for years, and Albus despaired to see broad swathes of the population ready to follow Tom's lead following this latest 'nudge'. Out on the streets, the divide between Light and Dark had never been so stark, and the Light side seemed to be shrinking with every passing hour. Those that tried to defend the muggles, those like the Order, were called traitors to their own people who would put magical lives at risk for the sake of outsiders, whereas Voldemort seemed to have been vindicated.

The opinions that had been built up over the years couldn't be changed in a day, and Albus had come to the saddening conclusion that his fight could no longer be a political one. He would continue to speak out, of course, in order to bolster his ranks and ensure both sides of the story were being heard, but he knew further support couldn't be won that way.

His only option now was to kill Tom – to cut the head off the beast and remove that option from the public altogether. In order to wage a physical war however, Tom had to come out into the open, and Albus knew by the time that happened it might very well be him that was seen as the aggressor. History is written by the victor, so if they had enough soldiers to fight and win, he could pick up the pieces and lead the world through this dark time – if not, well, Albus was a good man, and he was prepared to fall on his sword in order to save his people from the dark future they blindly welcomed: let him be remembered as the terrorist who murdered a Champion of Magic if that's what it took.

* * *

 **A new chapter, finally. I'm sorry that it's taken so long. If you read my other stories you'll know I've had a lull, but am not abandoning anything.**

 **Thank you for reading, and for sticking with me.**

 **xxxxxxxxxxx**


	38. Saint Potter

"Who opened the curtains?" Harry demanded in alarm when she came back from the bathroom to find all the dorm curtains had been pulled back.

"Is it you who keeps closing them? Oh for goodness sake, Potter. You have to let a little lake light in here! Come on, we're going to be late for charms." Millicent told her, and the other girls agreed.

"Why do you keep closing them, anyway?" Asked Daphne.

"Because of the, THAT!" Harriet shrieked, dashing forward to cover the dinner plate sized eye that came into view in the window right beside her bed! "I hate squid. And any eye that big isn't natural -"

Pansy took her arm and pulled her out of the room with the others – they really would be late if they didn't hurry. "Why were you so insistent on swimming in the lake then? Lady Malfoy was so mad I thought she was going to expel us all after that particular misadventure of yours." But Harry brushed off the question, too consumed with thoughts of terrifying cephalopods.

"Its beak is so strong it can snap right through you, of course that's if the suckers and hooks on its tentacles don't just tear you apart first. And its throat goes through its _brain!_ It's unnatural!"

"What's this now?" The boys were waiting in the common room, but all made to leave when the girls arrived. They had all gotten used to the fact that Harriet Potter never went anywhere alone, and that nine times out of ten Malfoy or Nott would be her escort.

"Harry's afraid of the giant squid." Pansy told Draco.

"We've been over this – you can't be a Slytherin and be afraid of the squid." Draco said as Harry began to walk beside him.

"Can too. Am too." She was going to have to ask Tom if he could get rid of the squid somehow. She loved looking out into the lake, and seeing all the wildlife therein, but she had a heart attack whenever the squid went by. Why couldn't they have a view of something nice? Oh! That reminded her. "We're getting a tiger!" Harriet whispered excitedly, as she and the others shoved their way out into the busy corridor of the second floor. It wasn't really the place to be talking about such things, no matter how quiet she was but, because having a tiger was a wonderful thought, Draco whispered back immediately:

"A tiger? Whatever for?" If Harry had managed to convince his parents to buy a tiger, he needed to up his game! A day off school and tickets to the Cup final at the very least! "How did you swing that?"

"How so?" Pansy asked, having overheard she'd assumed Harry's 'we' referred to the students. A tiger at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, neither Draco, nor Harry heard her in the din.

"Well, just because! Tigers are cute." She lowered her voice, and took Draco's arm so she could lean into his ear. "And, well, I guess I can't be sure. But I tried to convince…" she skipped Tom, he was a 'no' anyway, "Narcissa – she didn't really seem too convinced. But then I tried with Sirius: he said no, but then I told him that if he bought me a tiger, I'd keep it at Malfoy Manor – for some reason he seemed quite keen after that."

Draco shook his head. His father wouldn't like that at all, but he doubted the Dark Lord would allow Harry to keep a wild cat at his base.

They reached Charms and broke up into pairs in order to practice the levitation charm. It was rather difficult, and only a handful of students managed to make their feathers float before the end of the lesson. Harriet was paired with Ron Weasley. She thought it would be a nightmare, but he wasn't too bad.

He shouted the incantation in a way that suggested he'd been denied the type of training and education due to someone of his blood status. She's never known a Pureblood to be so uncouth.

"I think it's meant to be Levi- _o-_ sa." Harry tried to correct him, if only to prevent him taking someone's eye out with his rabid wand waving.

"How do you know?" He asked gruffly, clearly frustrated with his own failure. Harry was in a good mood, and she had the patience to realise she might have been likewise ignorant if she didn't have Tom – and Lucius, Narcissa, Sirius, and everyone else that had helped guide her.

"That's just how I heard it." Maybe it was just a confidence thing? The difference was striking when she compared Weasley to the boys she knew like Draco and Theo and Blaise. Just what had his parents done to him? He should have been confident, and knowledgeable in magical theory. The importance of proper pronunciation was basic stuff.

"I think there's something wrong with the stupid feather." He groused, and Harry had to close her eyes a moment, her patience running out.

"Well, don't think about the feather. Think happy thoughts. Think of something you like." Learning to make things float was one of the first things she learned to do wandlessly, and emotions fueled her efforts greatly – sadness, desperation and hunger, not the easiest emotions to replicate, but positive emotions had helped in more recent years.

"I like quidditch." Ron perked up, but Harry spoke before he was able to start enthusing about the new subject.

"Ok, so go with that. Close your eyes, and imagine you're on a broom, dressed in Gryffindor pride and wearing the captain's armband. You've just won the Cup, and are descending to the trophy. You want to lift it, to share your victory with the cheering crowds. So you take out your wand, loose wrist, swish, flick, and…"

" _Wingardium Levi-o-sa!"_ Ron's feather lifted far too quickly, shooting up to the ceiling, but neither he nor Harry cared, because he'd done it! Even Flitwick praised his accomplishment, which made him light up like a fire engine, much to Harry's amusement.

"Thanks Harry. I was dreading being partnered with you, but you're alright." He told her at the end of class.

"Erm, thanks, I think."

"No really. I was stuck with Granger last week and she's an absolute nightmare!"

Harry winced in sympathy. "The Mu-ggleborn? That's rough. Where is she today anyway?" She asked, now noticing the girl's absence.

"Dunno. Maybe she had bad news," Ron suddenly looked guilty, thinking maybe he'd been bitching about Hermione while she lost her parents. "How are you so calm?" He asked quietly. "You're doing really well in everything. How can you concentrate when everything is so insane?"

It was a fair point really. There was certainly enough going on to be a distraction. Harry's friends just found it all very exciting though. Many of them rushed down to breakfast every morning to see the latest development – the muggle atrocities, vague muggle death tolls, magical governments being overthrown, and the civil war in Germany. People were hooked, until Dumbledore banned newspapers, claiming the content was far too distressing for the students. It hardly mattered, news still came in the form of letters, it just took a little longer.

"Well nothing going on out there has anything to do with us. We're completely isolated from it." Tom wouldn't have let her come to Hogwarts if they weren't.

"Harry! Let's go." Pansy called her over, sneering at Ron as he hurried by. "Were you just helping _Ron Weasley_?" She asked with disgust.

"Why shouldn't I? He's from a good family – Why shouldn't he excel?" Defended Harry.

"Look Harry, I know you were raised, I mean, lived with muggles, but you should know that just because someone has pure blood, it doesn't mean they're worth your time."

"No," Harry agreed, "but they do deserve a decent education!"

"Leave it, Pans." Theo came to Harry's rescue, Draco following right after, trying to explain to Pansy:

"It's Halloween, it makes people act peculiarly." Draco saw it every year, every Halloween, every anniversary of her parents deaths – Harry turned into a little goody-two-shoes monster. He didn't think she was even aware she was doing it, but it was super annoying. Last year she'd decided to cook dinner at Malfoy Manor, for the Malfoys, the Lestranges, and the Dark Lord. The food hadn't been too terrible, but Draco remembered she'd made such a mess in the kitchen that Narcissa had dismissed the elves for the night, and made Harry clean it herself – after the Dark Lord left.

Harry put it all from her mind and moved on with her day… until she slipped into the girl's bathroom just before dinner and found Hermione Granger. The girl was standing in front of the mirrors, trying to pull herself together. Judging by the mess that was her face, Hermione had been crying hidden away in here all day.

"What do you want?" She snapped after catching Harry's eye in the mirror.

"To use the loo, obviously." Harry snapped back, not appreciating being attacked just for walking into the room. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing I'd expect you to understand. You go about like none of this affects you at all!" That was the second time she'd been accused of not caring in one day. Of course she cared! She felt dreadful, but that didn't mean she didn't agree with it. What was she supposed to do but go about her business – why did everyone expect her to solve the world's problems?!

Harry did her best to ignore the attack, just this one time. "Did you receive bad news about your folks?" She tried tentatively.

"No! I've had no news at all! Over 60 days, and I haven't heard anything from my parents." She was silent for a moment, before quietly admitting; "This morning Justin received news that his, that his parents are… they're gone." And she burst into tears again, obviously assuming the worst about her own parents.

Harry wasn't sure what to do, and shifted uneasily. "I know the, I mean, I've met the people in charge of finding families – I can ask that the Grangers are given priority. You know it might just be that they can't get in touch. They might be fine." She tried to reassure.

"What?! So they can be moved to a hog farm?!" Hermione asked hotly, before thinking about it, and adding: "Could you?" The idea of segregating people made Hermione deeply uncomfortable, but at least if they were under the Ministry's care, she'd know they were alive!

In theory, the Ministry had set up a task force to locate the immediate families of all school age muggleborn wizards and witches, and ensure they were safely escorted to one of the three Homes of Grace for Associated Refugee Muggles. In reality, they weren't breaking backs to find them. The homes were large country estates taken from, or abandoned by, muggles. They could be self-sufficient eventually. Tom planned that the muggle families would clean and maintain the properties, while also tending to the attached farms and cooking, while their magically gifted children would be educated on site to the degree Tom thought appropriate. Mostly just enough to serve their superiors.

If not for the fact Lily Potter was a mudblood, Tom would have left them uneducated and doomed to the same fate as their parents. Some might even take themselves, and possibly their families, out by developing obscurus. Maybe he could feed mudbloods to the Dementors. It was fun to imagine all he could do, and he resented the concessions he made for Harry's sake. He wondered when he'd stopped trying to deny most of the disgusting weaknesses she wrought, and simply started to accommodate them, but he imagined it was sometime between her nearly dying and her killing someone in order to make him feel better.

"Sure, I'll write to Sirius. He has two seats on the Wizengamot – they have to at least meet with him." She tried again to reassure the mudblood. Harry truly didn't want anyone to lose their family, but mudbloods shouldn't be here at all, they should be with their families at the grace homes, and if they were then the rest of the school wouldn't have to deal with the wretched sadness and fear they exuded.

Dumbledore ran into Harry leading Granger to the great hall, and carefully asked to speak with her. He'd struggled to reach her all year, but thought having her parents in mind on this awful anniversary, she might let him see through a little of the mask she wore so well.

Her contempt for the headmaster was easily felt the moment she stepped into his office. She really didn't want to have to deal with him today. Her stress tolerance was always lower on Halloween. He explained that he only wanted to check up on her, to make sure she was ok, and that he felt a responsibility to ensure she was. Apparently, it was a duty he owed to her parents.

Harry scowled.

"Please don't patronise me, Mr Dumbledore." She ground out as nicely as she possibly could. "If you felt any duty of care for me, you'd have rescued me years ago: I know you know I ran away from home! You didn't care about me then, and I don't expect you to care for me now!" It was only after she spoke that Harry realised just how much she'd messed up. She would never be able to fool Dumbledore in the long term! He was wise and experienced, and she was an eleven year old emotional spaz… She took a long, deep breath. "I'm sorry, sir – professor. I've been feeling a little emotional today, but shouldn't be taking it out on you." She tried to repair the damage with vulnerability and contrition.

"It's only natural that you should feel angry. You have every right to be." Dumbledore had been taken aback by the sudden outburst, and by her knowing of his involvement in her childhood, but he didn't mind too much, because this was the most genuine emotion he'd seen from her, a crack in her untouchable façade. "So many things have happened in your life that seem unfair. Too much has happened _to_ you." He sympathized.

This time Harry was able to catch herself before giving a knee-jerk reaction. She was so incredibly angry that he hadn't even tried to defend himself for abandoning her! What kind of arsehole doesn't question why a little kid tries to run away from home? God, she hated him. She also managed not to correct his assumption that her life was some terrible thing – She obviously had tragedy in her past, but Harry actually thought her life was charmed. She didn't really miss the parents she'd never known – she'd take the Malfoy's over the Potters any day, because she did know and love them. All the pain she'd suffered had come from being placed with the Dursleys, and that was the headmaster's fault! That stupid old idiot! That evil… Stop it! She told herself. Thank goodness she had such excellent Occlumency shields.

She looked around the room, praying for a distraction. The office was just as much a mess as the last time she was here, but with one addition; the strange mirror that was supposed to show your heart's desire.

When she didn't respond to his commiserations, he tried to lighten things up a bit. He didn't rejoice in playing on a child's emotions, or making her uncomfortable, but she had to understand what a large target she was. She had to know and be prepared for the fights ahead. The fate of the wizarding world might rest on her shoulders. It wasn't fair, but he could do nothing but try to help her.

"I believe you know what this mirror does?" He asked, with an indulgent twinkle in his eyes that made Harry's heart race. Had he been watching her? Did he know how close she was to Draco?

"I think it's broken. It didn't show me anything. There was nothing." She admitted, if only to appease him. Surely he'd let her leave soon!

"I assure you, it's working quite well. Perhaps you simply need to think more about what 'nothing' means to you."

"Really, it would work on anyone? Even someone like Voldemort?" And me? She wondered.

"Yes, though I can't begin to imagine what he would see – perhaps he'd be Minister of Magic." Again he tried to keep it light, but thought maybe he did need to lay it on a bit thicker when Harry only shrugged in response. She just didn't seem to comprehend the severity of the threat! "That doesn't seem to bother you?" He asked, concerned and curious.

"Why should it?" Harry questioned back. On this topic she knew exactly what was expected of her, and she knew she couldn't give it to the old man, because if she tried he'd see though her in an instant.

"Well, he killed your parents. He wants to kill you." He thought that much should be obvious, so he didn't even try to be tactful anymore.

"I don't think it's healthy to hold on to resentment for a decade, sir. Voldemort killed my parents, but lots of people killed lots of people in the war. The aurors were allowed to use Unforgivables back then – I'm sure my dad killed people, but I'd like to think their families weren't still holding on to that. An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind."

"And how does Sirius feel about this acceptance." He pushed carefully. He didn't know what was going on with Black, but he had always been fiercely loyal to his friends, and Albus couldn't imagine the man forgiving so easily.

"He doesn't want me holding hate in my heart." Well, there wasn't much Dumbledore could say to that. "The world is in a mess, professor, and a lot of people seem to think Voldemort has the answers. I don't like it, but maybe it's time someone new was given a chance to rule." Dumbledore's jaw dropped, and the only thing that stopped Harry bursting out in laughter was the thought she could extract the memory for Tom. Besides, she couldn't quite shake the stress of pretending – it was exhausting. She was treading a fine line: she couldn't be seen as supporting Voldemort, but she could not appear to be actively against him either. Tom didn't want her being dragged into the Order. And nor did she.

When was he going to let her go?!

"I believe I misspoke before: Voldemort doesn't want to be Minister. He wants to be," Dumbledore thought for a moment about how he could make her understand the _absolute_ power Tom was after. He didn't want to be Minister, not even a king; he wanted to be something more absolute, "He wants to be something like a pharaoh." This time Harry couldn't suppress the laughter – just the mental image of Tom dressed up broke her.

"Or like Apophis?" She managed, her back shaking with more suppressed laughter. Tom's previous snake-like visage was well known.

Albus almost gave in to the urge to shout in frustration. She just didn't get it! No matter what he said. It was almost like she was being purposely difficult. Maybe it was time he took more seriously her complaints of his part in her childhood.

"What I meant," He tried, "is that Voldemort doesn't want to respect the will of the people, he wants the people to drop to their knees before him. He's already managed to subdue many powerful families."

Oh, Harry knew that. "Why? I mean, I've got to know a lot of Purebloods lately, and I can't imagine any of them groveling in submission without good reason. Voldemort must be something special for such proud people to follow him." Harriet quietened down and gulped, when she saw the headmaster's face close off. Internally, she panicked about going too far. Had she given herself away?

With her last words, Dumbledore finally came to the realization that Harry Potter had fallen victim to Tom's power and reputation. Like so many naive fools before her, she'd become enamoured by him. Instead of fearing him, she was impressed and maybe even intrigued. And it would get her killed.


	39. Risk

Narcissa perched stiffly on the edge of her seat. It was a beautiful chair – Italian wood, she could tell, but inspired by Louis the somethingteenth of France. Yet for all its grandeur, which was reflected in the rest of the sitting room, it was dreadfully uncomfortable. Seeing as this was a parlour to Lord Voldemort's main office, she imagined the discomfort was by design. It certainly discouraged relaxation.

There was a magnificent six foot wide work of art to her left that graphically depicted muggles burning in a lake of fire, the work of renowned artist Maria Evennett. The witch had gifted the piece to the Dark Lord in 1976, and it was well received: Lord Voldemort had commented that, as gods to the lesser muggles, he would gladly help them realise this particular theology of theirs.

It did nothing to alleviate Narcissa's nerves.

She was a fool to have come here, she thought to herself for the fifth time since entering Bleeding Wolf Lane. What on earth had she been thinking, requesting a meeting with the Dark Lord? She'd mailed him the request in a fit of mother-bear like determination, purposely sending an owl instead of asking her husband to arrange the meeting, because she knew he would try to talk her out of it and insist on taking her issue to the Dark Lord himself.

Her moment of madness came after finding Harry, Draco, and a small number of their friends playing in the Dark Lake. In October! How the girl had convinced the others to swim in the frigid waters, she had no idea. However after speaking to Robin Aehart, who was stood on the banks of the lake with a cautious eye following the famous child, she learned Harry had all but threatened the man into being there. She'd asked him to charm them warm so they could swim, and when he refused she'd declared she would be entering the lake anyway, before turning to do just so. Of course, the man felt he had no choice but to comply after that.

Among the new teachers at Hogwarts, only Narcissa and Moore knew of Harriet's other identity. Aehart therefore had to rely on Voldemort's wishes as a guide of how to deal with the child. His first responsibility while at the school was to ensure the safety, heath, and wellbeing of Harriet Potter. His second was to provide her with the best educational support he was capable of providing. He couldn't begin to guess at what the Dark Lord was up to, what plans he had for the girl, but he would also never dare ask. Given these orders, he could hardly sit back and watch her enter the lake – she'd suffer some kind of pneumonia if nothing else, and he didn't relish the thought of explaining her sickness to his master.

Narcissa had come upon the scene and immediately snapped at Harriet to get out, before quickly shouting at the others too, in case anyone thought her too familiar with the girl. She was only supposed to have known the girl for a month – she shouldn't have been able to guess she was the ringleader, the one responsible.

Harry looked sufficiently chastised after her reprimand, and promised not to do it again, but Narcissa knew there would be something else soon enough. It seemed Harry was dead-set on getting into trouble, and the Malfoy mother was running out of ideas of how to get through to her young charge and find out what was really going on. She was falling asleep in Narcissa's rooms more than she was her own bed, and had been caught wondering in the library after curfew. And no matter how many times Narcissa tried to coax the child into sharing what troubled her, she only ever received the same replies of 'Nothing.' or 'I'm fine'.

When Harry first came to be in Lucius and Narcissa's care she was a guarded child, who only opened up and expressed emotion when the Dark Lord was near. It was the sign of a wounded child, and at first Narcissa had assumed the damage had been inflicted by Voldemort. However it hadn't taken long for Harry to open up and become the confident, affectionate child that Narcissa had come to love. And Harry loved her too. The last time Narcissa had cried came after overhearing Harry telling Draco how she wished the Malfoys were her parents.

This openness had ended after her fight with Voldemort. Narcissa couldn't help Harry if she didn't know what was wrong. She didn't believe any child should be forced to share something they didn't want to, so if it was the case that Harry was simply trying to work through something on her own, she would back off, give her space, and supply support where necessary. However, given the circumstances, Narcissa had a suspicion Harry's silence was the result of a decree of silence by Voldemort, and after becoming frustrated with her fruitless attempts to help, she'd decided to call Voldemort out on it. Yes, she was an incredible fool.

A scream ripped out from the office beyond the doors only metres away, setting her nerves on edge. She shouldn't be here! The Dark Lord had tasked her with raising Harriet Potter, and coming here to ask for his help was as good as admitting she'd failed in that task. Voldemort did not respond kindly to failure.

Another scream rang out, guttural and agonised, causing Narcissa's already pale face to drain of any remaining colour. Voldemort wasn't going to care about Harry's childish problems! Whatever possessed her to think he would?!

It was just that there were glimpses of humanity in Voldemort when it came to Harry. He was breathtakingly powerful, a genius, void of the emotions he declared were such a weakness, seemingly immortal, well worthy of the multitudes who looked to him to lead them – he was something beyond a mere man, something higher.

Except when it came to Harry.

With Harry there was mercy, there was concern, there was patience, and leniency, and understanding. Dare she think, there was even care. Whatever he had planned for Harry, his interest in her wellbeing seemed genuine. Sitting here, minutes away from her face to face with the dark wizard, she prayed it was genuine.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the doors opened and several Death Eaters exited their Lord's presence. Goyle dragged a broken man behind him as he went. He wasn't using magic – he literally dragged him out by his ankle.

"Cissy!" She looked away and found her sister sitting beside her. Bellatrix had already lost all her pregnancy weight. How was that fair? Narcissa thought fondly. "What are you doing here?" Bella was pleased to see her baby sister, but also very obviously concerned: the Dark Lord would have only summoned her if he was displeased… Cissy was not a warrior like Bellatrix. As a child she had only ever dreamed of loving husbands, and fat babies, and shining brightly in Society. She was raised a Black: she knew how to be fierce, and knew how to defend herself, but she wasn't built to withstand the displeasure of their Lord.

The fairer Black sister gave a brief, simplified reason for her visit. Bellatrix was not impressed.

"Cissy, let me take your – complaint" The word was barely whispered, she barely dared to speak it, "to the Dark Lord. You go back, and I'll make your excuses." It's not like Bella wanted to be tortured for wasting her master's time, it was just her duty as an older sister. She'd seen how Voldemort humoured Harry, perhaps even more than her sister had, and Bella loved Harry like the niece she never had, but it was often difficult to see all the plates Voldemort had spinning. His tolerance of Harry's childish ways may have come from a place of genuine affection, but none of his followers would risk their lives on it – they all thought he must be playing the long game, cultivating the symbol of light into a portent of darkness. Only, those who knew Harry knew she would never be such a thing. The crippling fear she brought was more to do with that instinctive feeling that the Dark Lord would kill on her say-so. No Death Eater had shared this suspicion with another, and yet they all had it.

"No, Bella. Harry is my responsibility, and I claim that responsibility." Narcissa declared with a straight back and all the decorum of someone of her station, despite the tangible fear she couldn't shake. Before Bella was able to respond, Rodolphus came out of the office.

"The Dark Lord requests your presence, Narcissa."

And so Bella and her husband watched fair little Narcissa disappear into the lion's den.

Narcissa walked to The Dark Lord's desk and bowed deeply.

"My Lord, thank you for agreeing to see me."

Tom spared her a glance, before looking back down to his letter – Germany asking for yet more assistance. Gabor had begged to be allowed to fight, but Tom wanted him close enough to protect Harry, if ever the need arose.

"I will always have time for you, Lady Malfoy. Please, take a seat. What can I do for you?" he asked, ever the charming, generous host.

Narcissa wasn't fooled, but sat stiffly.

"I trust everything is going well at Hogwa-"

"I came to seek your counsel, my Lord." She pushed on bravely. There was no backing out now, no excusing herself.

"Indeed?" Tom was curious now. When she'd first requested the meeting, he assumed it was to beg pathetically that she be allowed to quit her teaching job and return to her role leading Society. Had that been the case though, she would have come on bended knee, sycophantically begging his mercy and understanding. The Malfoys had always been such simply creatures: Lucius offered his submission in order to feed his own ambitions, and Narcissa would support her husband as long as his actions furthered the power of the Pure, and benefitted their small family. This was different.

"My Lord, you warned that Harriet might be a little, fragile, while at school."

Voldemort snapped his full attention to Narcissa, while absently reaching out through his connection to Harriet just enough to make sure she was well.

"Has something happened – "

"She is healthy." She reassured, "But she stays with me to wait out Morpheus' embrace most nights – something she's not done in years. And I believe there is something she wishes to share. If she's keeping secrets for her own sake, then I will of course respect that, but Harriet is unwaveringly loyal to you, so if my Lord has ordered her silence, I beg that you allow her to share, at least with me." Narcissa took a breath. "She's just a child." She tried. "And I cannot fulfil my duty in caring for her, while you restrain her so."

For a few moments, Voldemort was silent.

"That's the second time you've interrupted me, Lady Malfoy." He said smoothly.

Narcissa immediately froze, caught somewhere between falling to the floor to beg forgiveness, and meeting his piercing gaze to beg understanding. The silence stretched with all the weight of a descending guillotine. She waited, bracing herself for punishment as gracefully as she possibly could.

"When Harry was five, she became convinced the moon was following her." Whatever responses Narcissa had imagined over the last fretful week, this was not one of them. She stared at the Dark Lord dumbly, perhaps with the least amount of composure she'd shown since childhood. "She was in the car, on her way back from a family wedding reception, when she noticed that no matter how far her uncle drove, and no matter what direction he took, the moon was always just there, the same distance away…" he trailed off, looking away fondly. Still, Narcissa struggled to connect the story of sweet little Harriet with the Dark Lord Voldemort. Just how long had she known Voldemort before coming to the Malfoys?

"When they got home she took off running down the street in fright, but this only brought her uncle's ire down on her. Of course, I tried to explain ratio and perspective to her, but she was having none of it, or rather she couldn't comprehend it. For over a month she was terrified that every night the moon was coming to get her."

And still, Narcissa stared at the Dark Lord, dumbstruck. He returned her stare with a look that seemed to scrutinise her soul, until finally, when Narcissa thought the tension was about to snap her in two, he spoke again.

"Harriet killed a man, at my behest." He gave Harry's guardian freely. "But sometimes I think I forget that she is still just a child." It was true. Harry had done so much for him; performed rituals many adults would flee from; she kept secrets no child of elven should reasonably be expected to keep, that it was sometimes hard to remember that at the end of the day she was still someone who would rather try to beat her 'brother' on the monkey bars, than contemplate the fate of wizard kind. It was a disgusting weakness of hers. She must have been struggling greatly not to pass this particular weakness off onto Tom.

Narcissa fell back into her seat. Harry had killed someone on Voldemort's orders; what a terrible burden for a child to bear.

"Thank you, My Lord." The response was perfunctory, while she pondered how she would raise the issue with the young girl.

* * *

 **xx**


	40. Friendship

Flying practice was a bore! Experienced riders were taught at the same pace as the inexperienced. Never mind arguments about genetics and species loyalty and superiority, Tom should have sold mudblood exclusion on this one issue alone! Harry was sure most, if not all, pure and half-blood students would be sympathetic to his proposals then!

Right now they were supposed to be flying steadily in laps around two posts. Bore.

"You know there isn't a rule per se about first years not joining the quidditch teams." Harry told the others as they flew leisurely.

"Doesn't matter. First years are never good enough." Theo shrugged. He could play well enough, but would never devote all that potential study time to practise.

"Who would want to play, anyway? Have you seen the size of the Hufflepuff beaters?" Daphne shuddered, and so did Harry. Hufflepuff's beaters were both seventeen and together took up the same space as a solid brick cottage. They loomed high over the first years, and Harry did not like to think about what would happen if one of them managed to catch you with a bludger – she imagined a gnat being crushed by a bowling ball.

"We should be given a sporting chance though." Draco chimed in with his snootiest I'm-so-persecuted voice. He really wanted to play for Slytherin. "How can we even try out, if we aren't allowed broomsticks?"

They all slowly, steadily, made a U-turn around a pole and started back.

"You need the year to practise anyway." Blaise snickered. "The way you dropped the ball at Harry's birthday? I've never been so ashamed to know you." Harry looked askance to see a flush of pink beginning to bloom on Draco's cheeks, and she laughed hard.

"Well of course," Draco blustered, "it was her _birthday_ – I had to let her win." Everyone laughed with various cries of 'but, of course.' Truth was, after years of playing one on one, both chasing the same snitch in some kind of mad game of chase, Harry and Draco were pretty evenly matched. Whenever they had enough friends over for actual teams, they both took a seeker position each. Everyone had off days though, and on Harry's birthday this year Draco had missed the snitch when it was all but in his palm. He'd never live that down.

"Ha, I'm way better than you!" Harry defended.

"In your dreams! I could fly circles around you!"

"Could not!"

"Could too!"

"Who's dreaming now?"

"For the love of Salazar, cut it out you two!" Pansy shook her head. They were always like this, and she might have been jealous of the closeness, but they were more like –

Her head snapped to get a better look at them, while she slowed a little to fall behind. _No, no way_ , she thought. Only it definitely was, and now she could see it, she could _see it_! The way her speech sometimes dropped off into something less refined; the way she laughed; the way she fell so easily in with the group of life-long friends, like she too had known them for years; the way Harry didn't show much care about her appearance, yet her clothes were all in season, and she always looked well presented – well enough, anyway. Pansy had tried to explain away Draco's strange behaviour, and Theo's too, now she thought about it: perhaps their dads had ordered them to stay close to Potter, in which case Pansy was better off now knowing. But no, Draco and Harry were so comfortable with one another, and they could squabble like siblings. Or cousins!

Suddenly, Pansy put nose to the broom and sped forward, cutting Harry off and then forcing her to stop mid-air.

"Pansy, what –"

Her hand dove beneath the collar of Harry's shirt and as soon as she felt that fine chain, before she'd even lifted it into view, Pansy knew it would be a little emerald droplet on a delicate silver chain. Henrietta's necklace.

"Jesus, Pansy!" Harry cried in shock.

'Jesus' Just the sort of muggle expression Henrietta would occasionally use, and not something you'd expect to come from the mouth of someone of Malfoy lineage. But then Harry had been that way in the beginning, hadn't she? One of Pansy's first memories of Harry flashed through her mind: Just a day trip to the beach. She remembered an ugly bracelet made of braided leather with five square beads woven into the design to spell out Harry, enchanted to make the letters glow, just cheap tat – the kind to be found by the hundreds in seaside shops all around the country. She remembered it so well, because when Harry was first sent to live with the Malfoys she was so unrefined, and when Narcissa had noticed Harry eying the item and insisted on buying it for her young niece, eight year old Harry had reacted like a three year old who'd never been bought a souvenir before! She didn't even care that it came from the boys' section. It was very embarrassing behaviour, and Pansy kept her distance for the rest of that day. But of course time moved on, she was able to get to know the girl, and they became great friends.

Only they hadn't, because it was all predicated on a lie! Maybe a dangerous lie. Pansy didn't know much about politics, and nor did she want to, but she understood that knowing Harry Potter's secret identity could be incredibly dangerous.

Harry looked with wide eyed shock at Pansy. Then she looked across to Draco, who looked back with equally wide eyes and who then turned to Theo, whose wide eyes searched out Harry's, which were already looking at him. None of this helped.

Oh, oh.

"P-Pansy, we should talk about this." Harry yanked her portkey free and slipped it back beneath the safety of her shirt. She tried to sound casual, but the forced smile might have given away the dread that creeped through her veins: she didn't know when Tom planned to reveal her other identity, if ever, but she knew he'd be furious if it happened outside his timetable. He might even want Pansy silenced…

She couldn't do this! Tom was right. She hadn't even made it through one term and already she'd been found out by a student, and maybe given herself away to Dumbledore.

Pansy snapped out of her stupor, and scoffed hastily. "It's true, isn't it? You _are_ Harry!" Harry held up her hands, wanting Pansy to quieten down before anyone else heard! Oh, Tom was going to pull her out of school! "Mother of Merlin! How could you lie about something like that? I thought we were friends! And why would… Lord Malfoy surely works for… and didn't Theo's dad try to kill you this year? And You-know-who just… Oh! OH! And that's why you couldn't come to my party! You weren't poorly; you were in the hospital!" Harry was struggling to follow.

"Pansy!" Pansy stopped, and Harry frowned at the look of betrayal in her eyes. "I couldn't tell you." She snapped, unable to think of anything else. She'd fantasied about the time when the mean students found out about her allegiance, about a time when she could dare them to repeat earlier insults, but she never considered how her friends might feel. Surely they could understand the need for secrecy!

She was going to have to tell Tom! Oh Merlin… She reached out to draw his attention, half hoping he was busy and would ignore her, but Pansy grabbed her attention again by turning to Blaise and Daphne and saying:

"Harry is Harry! I mean, Harry is Henrietta, I mean, I mean of course she is! It's the same bloody name!"

Well, Harry, Draco, and Theo had done a great job of containing this…At least no one else was around – they'd all passed by and made it back to the ground safely.

Draco watched Blaise's eyes brighten with a sudden comprehension, and he moved forward to try and, well, he wasn't sure – deny it probably.

Daphne saved him: "Pansy! It's fine." Both Harry's and Pansy's mouths dropped open at that, before bobbing a few times as they tried to form the word 'what?!'. "It's fine." Daphne repeated seriously. "Whatever is going on here, we don't want to know, _do we?_ "

"But she…"Pansy tried to argue, but Daphne didn't let it go any further. She'd had her own misgivings about the strange dynamic around her friends since school began, and knew she recognised Harriet somehow. She never would have made the connection that Pansy had made, even though it seemed so obvious now. Nevertheless, knowing the truth raised a host of questions, and even in her state of shock, Daphne realised how dangerous those questions were.

Blaise shook his head when Pansy tried to argue. Daphne was right. He liked to gossip as much as the next pureblood, but this was too hot. He stayed quiet as Daphne tried to calm Pansy.

"Let's just make the most of it, okay? Harry got to come with us to Hogwarts after all. It's a good thing, so just let it be." She said slowly, half convincing herself. "Just one question:" She said with equal severity as she turned to Harry, who shrank just a little under the intense stare. "Does the Dark Lord know about this? Does he know who you are? Who Henrietta really is?" Daphne needed to know this much, just for her own peace of mind, and she reckoned Harry owed her friends an answer. Her father had always been fairly neutral, but recently he'd been speaking out at the Ministry in support of Voldemort, and if Harry was His enemy it would be disastrous for the whole family. Just being close to Potter could put her father in harm's way.

"Ye-yes, he knows. He was the one who asked the Malfoys to take me in." Harry replied quietly, barely daring to speak at all, but knowing her friends needed this reassurance.

"Great. So it's fine, right Pansy?" Pansy looked up at Daphne and nodded. It would take her a while to wrap her head around all this, but Daphne was right; it was best to just accept this development and ignore the thousand questions she had. For now.

"This isn't a social club! 10 points from Slytherin!" The professor's call from below had them all moving again, and Harry started to feel maybe things weren't so messed up after all. Daphne at least appreciated the need for discretion, and Pansy and Blaise seemed to be taking it well enough.

She touched down, and the lesson was over soon after.

" _Harriet."_ Tom's voice was so sharp; it seemed to echo around her mind. She gave a nervous little laugh, and moved on autopilot beside her friends.

" _Hey, Tom. So, how's, erm, Germany."_ Smooth, real smooth, she thought, knowing it would do no good trying to feign ignorance, but trying anyway.

" _It's a bloodbath. How are Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Daphne Greengrass?"_ He'd felt her reaching out to him, as fleeting as it had been, and had thereafter witnessed the whole shambolic episode. Germany wasn't really a blood bath, in fact the situation there was improving every day, but he wanted to remind Harry exactly what would become of her little friends if she let them become a threat.

Harry gulped. _"They're fine. Really. You heard Daphne – they aren't interested –"_

" _Take them to Moore, immediately."_

She bit her lip hard. _"They aren't going to tell anyone –"_

" _Harry –"_ Tom started with a note of warning.

" _I can't keep doing this, Tom!"_ She cried out. _"I don't want to have to keep lying to everyone! Please! It's just three more people. And they're my friends, they wouldn't say anything. It's just like Draco and Theo knowing."_

Tom took a second before replying. It wasn't like Draco and Theo at all. When they were told of Harry's identity, they and Harry had been within his reach.

" _Take them to Moore, Harry, or Moore will bring them to_ ** _me_**."

And so feeling like a traitor, and yet knowing it was probably for the best, Harry duped her friends into going to visit Moore.

The stern ex-auror made her wait outside. Draco and Theo got to go in, but she didn't protest too much, because she didn't much want to witness her friends being obliviated.

She waited in the corridor for what felt like an hour, but was probably about twenty minutes, until finally the office door swung open. Daphne came out first. She was white as a sheet, but gave Harry a shaky wink. Next came Blaise, who was shaking a little and had a far off look in his eye. Then Pansy came out and she was sobbing silently, holding herself tightly and not even acknowledging the reassuring hand Draco had placed upon her shoulder.

Harry met her brother's eye and gave a half-hearted, saddened shrug. He swallowed heavily, looking a bit shaken himself.

"Moore didn't obliviate us." Daphne said in a quiet, shaky whisper. "He just –" Her voice cracked, so Blaise took over for her.

"He just pointed out the consequences of sharing what we know, or doing anything that might bring you to harm." Harry always thought Blaise was cool in that way you just had to be born with – she'd never seen him rattled like this.

She caught Professor Moore's eye right before the door closed, and he look at her with perfect disinterest, as though traumatising kids was a waste of his Saturday.

"What did he say?"

"It doesn't matter. We're all fine. We're all fine, but I think we should ditch French today and just relax." Pansy said, pulling herself together as best she could.

Harry felt herself being dragged along by an arm in the crook of her elbow (a familiar sensation), but couldn't believe what she was hearing; Tom had let them in on her secret?! She broke into a huge grin.

" _I love you, Tom."_

" _Yes, well. You'd better."_

* * *

 **Only two more chapters planned before a time skip to fourth year. I say planned, because we all know I have no self-control, but I really am aiming for just two.**

 **xxxx**


	41. Time Numbs All

**This chapter is all about Harry coming to terms with her first murder. I know some people dont much care for this side of the story so please feel free to skip. If you do skip I'll just remind everyone that this is a Dark side fanfic (and I mean that as in Dark side, not Dark side is actually the Light side lol).**

* * *

Dumbledore had pulled Harry into his office again! The man hadn't lost his tenacity; Harry had to give him that. This time it had been to do with the various requests for interviews he was receiving on her behalf. He very clearly wanted her to make a statement calling for calm, and condemning the monster who'd tried to kill her when she was just a sweet little baby.

Harry wasn't moved, and reminded the headmaster that any contact with the press should be done through her legal guardian, Sirius. If the press were sending him requests, he should be forwarding them to Sirius, not Harry. She hated when anyone tried to tell her what she should do, but especially Albus Dumbledore. The only people who could tell her what to do were Tom, Lucius, and Narcissa. Sirius too, to some extent, but that was only because Harriet chose to obey him in a gesture of love and respect. Tom would never grant Sirius such power.

Harry felt like Dumbledore was becoming less and less patient with her. This time he had spoken outright of his concerns for her wellbeing during the upcoming Christmas break. He actually advised her against visiting any of her friends' homes. She'd tried to reassure him as best she could. She told him she would be staying at Grimmauld Place, which as he knew, was completely secure.

By the time he let her go, she only had an hour to chat with the girls before getting ready for bed, but when that time came she was still restless, and so after staring at her canopy for half an hour while everyone else fell asleep, she made her way to Professor Malfoy's chambers.

"Harriet, I told you you're not to come here anymore." Narcissa stood in the doorway, frowning down at the young pyjama clad girl.

"I know, but just this one night? Pleeease?"

She considered Harry for a few moments before saying: "Very well. You may come in this one last time, but only because I wish to speak with you." After this night she would stick to what she'd said, that Harry couldn't come to her rooms at night anymore, because it wasn't healthy, and wouldn't help the girl in the long run. For tonight though, she could use the opportunity.

"Erm ok," Harry looked tired, her movements were sluggish as she dragged herself over to the sofas. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Would you like a glass of milk? A hot chocolate, perhaps." Harry nodded slowly at the latter. Narcissa never let her drink hot chocolate right before bed – the fact that she would now made her nervous.

Narcissa moved to the silver tea set and started making the drinks. A silver tea set at Hogwarts, because even at work, a Malfoy had to have the best. "I think it's time we addressed the reason for your visits."

"We have. I told you; I'm fine. It's just that I like it here." Harry gave the same empty response as always. Narcissa came over, setting down the drinks, before sitting beside Harry. She wished there was a manual of how to deal with this. She didn't want to come in heavy with 'everything is ok' (which was her first inclination), because Harry had to work through this herself. But she also couldn't just leave Harry to work through this herself, because an eleven year old didn't have the capacity to deal with such issues, and it would eat her up.

"I spoke to the Dark Lord about your recent behaviour." Harry's mouth dropped open and she gave Narcissa her best 'you traitor' eyes. The woman was unaffected. "And he told me that you killed a man for him." She said it straight. She didn't try to sugar coat it, and nor did she try to convey any sort of judgement. This was something that needed to be dealt with for what it was.

"He told you that?!" Instantly Harry's eyes became puffy and red and filled with tears, though they refused to fall. She was simultaneously relieved that someone knew her awful secret, and mortified that her adoptive mother knew her awful secret. She wouldn't want her anymore! Harry had seen Tom kill people, and she knew he'd killed countless more, and therefore it didn't really matter if he knew, because he wouldn't care, and even if he did, she didn't doubt he would still love her. But with her pseudo-mum? It was hard to know what people thought of you when you couldn't feel it yourself. What if Narcissa was so repulsed or disappointed that she threw Harry away? What if she didn't want her to see Draco anymore? What if she carried on as normal, but only through fear of angering Tom?

"Yes, He told me. Is that the reason you're having trouble sleeping?" She tried to push gently. Nothing in her experience of life and motherhood had prepared her for this situation. She watched Harry curl into herself a little, pulling her knees up to hide behind, seemingly shrinking before her eyes.

"I don't have trouble sleeping." Even her voice seemed smaller. "Once I'm asleep, I'm fine." Narcissa didn't say anything. People in general are uncomfortable with silence, and they try to fill it – she hoped the same was true for young girls. "I just don't like the quiet. Not when I'm alone." It was the main reason she wanted to go home. Yes she still missed Tom, and Lucius, and Sirius, and everybody, but that was manageable now - she was getting used to it. She wanted to go home because she could be quiet with Tom, because he made everything better.

Narcissa took a soothing sip of tea. They had barely begun and already she wanted to grab Harry and hold her close. "What happens when it's quiet, Harry?"

The young girl peeped over her knees, looking at Narcissa with the one eye visible through the hair falling across her face. "I think there's something wrong with me." She whispered. "I think I must be a terrible person."

"Because you killed somebody?" Again, Narcissa didn't try to temper the words.

"Because nothing happened." The child was deflecting again, but Narcissa let her go on. "I, I killed this man, and nothing changed. Nothing. Don't you think it should have?"

"Something changed in you." Narcissa pointed out. Softly, softly. Harry started chewing her finger nails, which was something Narcissa had never seen her do, even back when they first met.

"Do you think I'm evil?" Harry looked away to the fire as soon as the words left her mouth, too afraid of the answer. Narcissa wanted to respond with a resolute no, but she knew that wouldn't work. It would be one of those 'you're only saying that because you're my mum' situations.

"Why ever would you think that?" She asked instead, clinging to her bone china teacup with both hands. Holding Harry right now would be the wrong move – she would shut down.

"Because nothing happened. Nothing happened in the world, and nothing happened with me. I go to sleep and I wake up and I go to class and I study and I see my friends," She took a few breaths, but they were too short and shallow for Narcissa's comfort and the woman wanted to cry. "and I go outside and I see the sunshine and the frost and I feel the chill in the air and I eat bacon" another small breath, "and pancakes and I laugh and I see my friends laughing and it makes me worry…" She finally trailed off, breathing evenly, all the way in and all the way out – breathing techniques to calm emotions: not something Narcissa thought any child should have to know. Children were supposed to act out on their emotions, especially as they approached their teen years. This was another example of Harry closing off her emotions, like she had all those years ago, and Narcissa couldn't let her go back to that.

"And why would that make you 'evil'?" She hated even saying the word in relation to Harry.

"Because I forget! Because I love my life, and my family, and my friends…" a tear broke through the dyke, and a torrent more followed soon after. However, it wasn't the type of semi-hysterical crying Harry usually practised; it was an almost calm, never ending flow of tears. "But then when it's quiet, when there's nothing else… I see his eyes…" And for the first time tonight, Harry sobbed. She continued to stare into the flames, though she couldn't possibly see them through her tears. Still, it was better than facing Narcissa. "They were black, I mean really black, like obsidian, but they still shone brightly somehow… with life… and then I… And now he'll never see the sunshine, or feel the frost, or eat bacon and pancakes… He'll never laugh again, and it's my fault. And I sometimes forget! Don't you think that makes me evil?"

Wow, Narcissa had thought she could do this by herself, but as a few stray tears broke free, she wished she'd waited until the holidays and asked Lucius to join her.

"I think that makes you human." She tried so hard to prevent her voice from cracking that it came out rather harsh and cold, but maybe that was just as well.

"I don't know." Harry shook her head. "I keep trying to…"

"Yes?" Harry was closing up, so Narcissa took a guess at what was coming next; "You keep trying to get into trouble. Is it that you want to be held to account?" Apparently she was wrong; Harry shook her head in earnest now.

"I'm not trying to get into trouble, I promise! I just" Harry hated this. She wasn't a child, damn it! She should be better than this. But right now she wished she was a child; she wished everything could be made better by a hug from this woman. "I just want the thrill. It's like, when I'm scared I know I'm alive. I know I have a soul, because I'm scared." Narcissa tried to follow that logic. The sneaking around when there was a high risk she would be caught, the swimming in a lake that had within its depths a creature Harry feared…

"Well, I agree that nothing makes you feel quite so alive as fear." Or the feeling that you're about to die, anyway. All fear could be considered a poor substitute of the same. "But you don't need that, Harry. You've already mentioned the things that truly make you alive. Things far greater than a fleeting rush of blood or an adrenalin spike; loving and being loved, and appreciating the incredible world around you." Such things were all the more poignant after witnessing death.

Harry was quiet for some time while she thought. She did love, she loved deeply, and she knew she was loved.

"Do you feel guilty? That the man you killed can never experience all those things?"

"No." Harry started to cry again. "I don't feel guilty. I feel ashamed, because I don't feel guilty. I did this terrible thing, and sometimes when it's quiet I think it's going to swallow me whole, but if I could go back in time, I'd do it again. I'd make the same decision. I don't regret it." it frightened her that the more time that passed, the more she came to accept the logic that murder was ok. Someone who betrayed Tom, who would likely suffer more before being killed anyway - if the death of such a man could protect Harry, could save her life even, why should she feel bad about it?

Honestly, Narcissa hadn't seen this coming. She wasn't exactly prepared for this angle.

"There is something wrong with me, isn't there?" Harry challenged. "Like I don't have a soul or something." She tried to play the soul side of things down, but wanted to know what the woman had to say on the issue.

Narcissa took a breath.

"You've seen the Dark Lord kill people?" Of course Harry had seen him kill, and Narcissa realised too late that might not be the best example. She tried again. "You know that Lucius has killed. And your aunt Bellatrix actually enjoys it. Do you think there is something wrong with them? Do you think they have a soul?"

This is what it all came down to. Killing was just a part of life when you were so close to the Dark Lord. When you were so close to any leader really.

Harry thought about it. She didn't feel qualified to say whether there was something was wrong with aunty Bella, but she thought about how the woman laughed. How she'd smack the back or Rod's head, but look at him with such love. The way she looked at Cassie with such wonder, making silly nonsensical baby noises. The way she was so clearly devoted to Tom. No, Bella might enjoy the act of killing, but she definitely had a soul; Bella's soul burned brightly enough for everyone to see. Bella and Lucius had killed, but they still loved, and you couldn't love unless you had a soul, right? And Harry loved, so...

Narcissa tried not to let out a sigh of relief when she saw the change in Harriet. She could read the girl's face easily enough, and knew she had come to the right conclusion, thank Merlin.

"And you love music, don't you? They say you have to have real soul to create music, and Mr Grantham assures me you are progressing splendidly." Finally she felt it was safe to reach out. She took one of Harriet's hands in both of her own. "I think your soul is just fine."

"But shouldn't I feel regret." Harry pushed back.

"You regret that he's dead, don't you? You've said as much. Just because you are glad you did it, doesn't mean you don't regret the outcome. Harriet, sometimes good people have to do terrible things, and when you do you should not be afraid or regret them. Everyone is capable of murder. I have never killed, and to be honest I hope I never have to, but I would if the circumstances were right. If someone threatened my family, for example, I would kill immediately, without remorse or thought of conscience."

Harry bit her lip (better than her nails, Narcissa thought), and finally turned to face Lady Malfoy. "So, there's nothing wrong with me?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far." Narcissa returned with a loving smile. "I mean, what kind of child lets a mug of hot chocolate go cold?"

Harry dived at her, almost knocking the wind out of her. She hugged Narcissa with a bone-crushing, marrow-extracting hug, and Narcissa hugged her back just as intensely (if not quite as tightly), until, after a night Narcissa hoped never to repeat, Harry fell sound asleep against her.

* * *

 **xx**


	42. Bad, bad day Part One

"You know the signal?"

Draco rolled his eyes, while the others watched on, torn between concern and excitement. Because scary is exciting. "The signal is the sound of me running away and leaving your insane self behind."

Pansy, Daphne and Blaise gasped, but Harry ignored them. They were currently going through that stage where they were all terrified that Harry would get hurt or in trouble and that they would be held accountable, and so couldn't believe Draco would joke about something like this. They'd get over it, or they'd stop worrying to such an extent, just like Draco and Theo had. And she knew it was killing them not to ask for details – not that she could blame them. Harry was curious to know what Moore had said to make them so fearful that they hadn't even asked about the Dark Lord.

"Come on, guys." Theo tried to rush them all along. "We all know what we're doing. You'll at least be able to get onto the stairs before Dumbledore catches you. Now go! The longer we stand here, the more likely we'll get caught."

"Fine, Fine." Harry turned and spoke the password, sherbet lemon, and raced up the circular staircase that led to the headmaster's office. Harry wanted to get in there to have another look at the cruel mirror, so when she overheard McGonagall saying the old man had unexpectedly rushed from the castle in the early hours of that morning, she took the opportunity. She wanted to test a theory, and prove Narcissa was right about there being nothing wrong with her.

As nervous as they were about getting caught, the children all thought they were being very clever. Pansy and Daphne were stationed at the two adjacent corridors, ready to intercept the headmaster should he appear, and either distract him or lead him away. Theo and Blaise would be watching, just around the corner, and they would signal to Draco who was waiting by the gargoyle and who would run up to get Harry. Even if the girls couldn't delay him for long, Harry and Draco could get back onto the stairs and just claim they were coming up to see him. Theo and Blaise were even talking about starting a fight…

Yep, very clever. Dumbledore would never ever see through such a scheme…

Fortunately, Harry had always been a lucky soul.

Harry opened the office door with a simple _Alohomora_. Odd, she thought, that he would have such terrible security. He must keep all his evil plans somewhere else.

The mirror was still there, but curiously was covered over – maybe Dumbledore thought the mirror was cruel too, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what he saw when he looked into it.

Pulling the heavy, bright orange drape down, she closed her eyes and concentrated hard. What did she want most? Well, right now she just wanted the stupid mirror to work, and prove that she was still a normal human. But how would the mirror show her that? A mirror in the mirror that worked for her reflection? No, that was silly. Erm, she wanted a tiger? No, that wasn't good enough, besides she was probably getting one anyway. Oooh, she wanted to know what Tom had bought her for Christmas! But no, it probably couldn't give her information, otherwise she'd just ask for knowledge, like what Dumbledore was up to, or what he was hiding up on the third floor (because the boys still wouldn't let her go have a peek: " _Did you miss the old coot talking about a painful death?" "Don't worry so much, Narcissa won't find out." "Narcis-? It's not Mother I'm worried about!")._ Ok, if it couldn't tell her what she was getting, how about: what she wanted most right now was to figure out an awesome gift for Tom? The mirror could drag an idea out of her head, right? That's basically what it did.

She opened her eyes, and smiled stupidly at the stupid smile she saw smiling back. The mirror was working, and that alone was enough for Harry's chest to feel lighter. She supposed her greatest desire had been for the mirror to simply work for her after all. Maybe it was silly of her, she was sure Tom would say so, but to Harriet this was proof. This wasn't Tom and Narcissa saying she was fine; it was an unfeeling piece of metal and glass that didn't care about her or know good from bad. It had been designed to show the desires of one's heart, and now she knew: there was nothing wrong with her. Maybe back when school began, when everything had been so raw and recent, her dominant wish was the ability to just be quiet and still with her own thoughts; she didn't care now.

Satisfied, she leant down to pick up the drape when she noticed her reflection hadn't followed. It was staring down at her, its arm outstretched in offering. The reflection winked, and slipped something into the pocket of her school robes, and Harry startled a bit when a weight dropped into her actual pocket. Apparently the mirror didn't just show you things, it gave you things. Neat.

Would this be considered theft? Harry didn't want to steal anything.

She quickly threw the drape back over the mirror, and then was completely underwhelmed when she reached into her pocket and pulled out a strangely cut, blood red stone. A gem stone maybe? How did this prove the mirror worked for her? Or was this about Tom? Maybe it had some special properties, or maybe it was some stupid novelty mirror… thing.

Glancing around the now familiar office, she slipped the stone back into her pocket and wondered if she should have a look around, try to find something useful, though she quickly thought better of it when she remembered her friends waiting downstairs, and decided it was time to hurry along. Tom would kill her if she got caught snooping anyway.

Later that day, Harry got away from her friends and went up to the astronomy tower. Tomorrow the students would be heading home for the winter break, and Harry couldn't wait. In the meantime though, the land around Hogwarts was stunning, and this was the best place to appreciate the incredible wonderland created by last night's heavy snow fall.

" _What have you been up to?"_ Tom's sudden presence didn't make her jump, but she didn't like the note of trepidation in his voice.

" _Why would you think I'm up to something?"_ Harry tried to sound offended.

" _Because I've met you."_ Tom replied flatly. _"And I just had that feeling – the foreboding that warns you are up to no good."_

" _And here I thought were too busy to be thinking about little old me."_ She was trying to tease, but there was a definite bite to her words. He supposed he had been less available lately, but it was true that he was busy. It was a good thing he never needed much sleep, because he was averaging four hours a night. Who knew redesigning the world to your liking would be so much work?

Still, since Narcissa's visit he'd been a little distracted worrying about Harry. That monster. He did quite enough for her already, and she really shouldn't be interfering with his work.

On top of everything, he had been side-tracked with yet another research project. This one started as a mild curiosity about Harry's invisibility cloak, but quickly escalated into something bordering on obsession. Its composition was odd, but he hadn't been really intrigued until he thought to kill a few minutes by looking up any other instance of life-long lasting invisibility cloaks, or even invisible fabric, and found nothing. The day after that he'd searched more thoroughly, but the only account he found was in a book of lore, and the cloak in that book was clearly based on a children's tale. Tom, however, knew that many myths contained kernels of truth, many even based on real events, and if the Cloak of Invisibility existed, then so too, might the Elder Wand: the most powerful wand in the world. Tom had to possess it.

He blew off, or rather, he delegated several responsibilities to his followers and travelled to Europe, using the excuse of helping with the German war effort (and didn't the Light soldiers scatter when Lord Voldemort himself showed up to fight!), and interrogated Gregorovitch at length. His suspicion was confirmed; that there did indeed exist a wand more powerful than any other. It had been stolen from the wand maker, and his allies in Europe supplied the name of the thief. He didn't know much about wand lore, but imagined he would need to kill his predecessor Dark Lord in order to win mastery over his wand.

Unfortunately, his search hadn't ended with Grindelwald.

" _I_ am _busy!"_ But not even his newest obsession could stop Harry Potter niggling her way into the back of his mind. In many ways it was a good thing, because it kept him somewhat grounded and focused on the things that needed his attention. And not just overhauling Hogwarts' extracurricular policies just so she could learn to play the piano, or ordering the death of squid! He knew that if his larger, more world changing efforts failed, if the important motions and laws he planned to have passed in the British Ministry this month failed, if _he_ failed, it wouldn't just be Tom that suffered. He would not allow Harry to suffer for his failures. Keeping Harry safe and content compelled him to succeed almost as much as his own ambition. " _And now I hear you asked the muggle task force to prioritise the family of one of your classmates?"_ Tom was concerned she was taking an interest, but also rather impressed that she was pushing her influence to boundaries beyond the walls of Bleeding Wolf Lane. There was nothing worrisome about how she was doing it – no malice or megalomania – it was just becoming more and more natural to her. Whether it was her teachers or the few Ministry employees who'd known her as Henrietta, she just assumed that anyone who knew the truth would be willing to help her. They'd have to have a chat about not letting people take advantage. Favours were often done with reciprocation in mind, and he wouldn't have anyone using Harry in order to curry favour with him. Nor would he allow people like Granger to take advantage of Harry's good nature.

She should have known it would get back to him. _"I only wrote a letter asking for consideration."_ She brushed off his concern. _"Besides, Granger is insufferable, but she's pretty smart: she is the only mudblood not being held back."_ As predicted, (and planned), muggleborns had performed terribly this term, and while nobody could blame them, it did create the problem that those muggleborns would hold the other students back if they remained in the same classes. Many teachers had fought against it, because whether it made sense or not, this was just an excuse to segregate muggleborns. Among the first years, Granger was the only one not being asked to repeat the term.

" _Harry, you are not to interfere. You are at Hogwarts to learn, and if you do anything to attract Dumbledore's attention I will bring you home. Am I understood?"_

"…" Harry scowled. She tried to scowl mentally, but this only resulted in her face screwing up in a way it probably wasn't meant to. _"Did they find her parents?"_

" _Of course they did. You asked them to, didn't you?"_ And he couldn't interfere, because he didn't want anyone thinking Harry wasn't under his authority and protection. If people didn't believe Lord Voldemort had her back, Harry would be vulnerable.

If she ever figured this out, he was doomed.

Grinning to herself, Harry moved the conversation on before he could tell her off some more. _"Who is picking me up from the station?"_

" _Narcissa and the pet, of course."_ He wasn't going to let her get away with it, _"Now, Harriet, tell me I'm understood."_ No first year mudblood should have been allowed to continue in the same classes as their betters, for they should have been the start of the new order, examples of how mudbloods were inferior, and not fit to learn at Hogwarts. As Tom understood, Granger was going to be a problem anyway, but Harry giving her hope hadn't helped.

" _No."_

" _I beg your pardon? No?_ " He so rarely heard that word. He would punish her even while she was at Hogwarts for such blatant insubordination, and she was coming home tomorrow, so it's not like she could even fool herself into thinking she was safe, and therefore he wondered if it was something else – probably some emotional reaction.

" _No. I don't care who or what or how you were born, there's no need for anyone to lose their families. And I know it's not part of your plan anyway, so what's the problem?"_

" _Keeping mudbloods with their families is mostly PR…"_ Why was he explaining himself? _"It will lessen resentment and foster gratitude towards wizard kind; their saviours."_ No, he definitely shouldn't be explaining himself. _"No more Harry. The next mudblood you try to help dies."_

"It's just one, Tom. I have to be able to help just one."

Tom sighed, knowing it was the closest he would get to an agreement. He would never understand her: the child was insane.


	43. Bad, bad day Part Two

Sirius was in good spirits when he ran into the pub.

"Merlin," Remus started, "I barely dare ask: new woman?"

"Nope, same woman." Sirius slid into the booth and took a sip of beer. Remus was the best – ordering ahead for him.

"The same woman for over three months? Either you are sick, my friend, or she has incredible skills." Sirius grinned into his glass devilishly, but chose not to respond, which in itself told Remus everything he needed to know. Usually he had to beg Sirius to stop sharing sordid details of his latest affairs, now he couldn't even tease out a name.

"What happened to you?" He asked, only half joking.

"Acceptance, Moony. It's a beautiful thing." Sirius called over a barman with an indolent hand gesture, and Remus was reminded that he had been raised a son of the aristocracy, and was now a Lord in his own right. However much Sirius fought to be loud and brash and 'Gryffindor', he couldn't escape his upbringing. He looked exactly as one would imagine Lord Black to look. Though Remus would bend his neck to Greyback before he called Sirius 'Lord'.

He considered his words. There had been no give in Sirius' position, even now as the wizarding world stood on the brink of oblivion, he was willing to sit back and watch it fall.

"Kingsley said you voted in favour of restricting associated-muggle access to our streets." Remus was tired, as always. The full moon had been only days ago, and since then he'd already been dragged into a fight: Death Eaters raiding the home of a muggleborn healer who had been a little too vocal in her opposition to the anti-muggle laws being enacted. The Order was too late to stop the healer being taken away, but managed to save her family.

After being confirmed as the Black Lord, Sirius had claimed his right to a seat on the Wizengamot, as well as Harry's proxy. The Wizengamot predated the Ministry, and most seats were held by hereditary peers – the rest were appointed to those in prominent positions within the ministry and society. This mix was usually enough to stop any extreme laws being passed, but in the months since Voldemort's attack on the muggles, many of the old neutral families represented had become increasingly supportive of their Darker peers. Remus couldn't imagine why his friend would join them, but he was beginning to suspect… Dumbledore spoke of Harriet's sympathetic stance to Voldemort's machinations. Remus knew that Sirius had been disowned from his family, and so to be reinstated he would have to have been supported by any remaining Blacks; that meant Narcissa Malfoy, and perhaps even Bellatrix Lestrange (not Andromeda though, as she had also been disowned), had legally declared they were happy for him to re-join the family and become its Head. Why would they do that for an enemy? Remus was starting to suspect Sirius had turned on the Light after they had falsely imprisoned him.

Sirius ignored him for a moment to place an order. "Another round, two shots of single malt over a single ice cube, and a giggle water for my friend here – he needs to lighten up." The barman left without acknowledging he'd heard the order, but Sirius knew the drinks would be prepared with haste. He hated his family, and at times he hated the Black name, but mostly he hated how after spending so much time with his idiot pureblooded peers, he was getting used to using his name and using his status. He knew people would jump to please him, to try to impress him. It was why he came to dives like this; less sycophants sucking up, not to mention how it ruined the 'Lord Black' stereotype.

"Sirius…"

"No serious talk allowed tonight, Moony." He pushed the newly deposited giggle water across the table. "It's party season, Harriet comes home tomorrow, and this is my last chance to get drunk with my best friend. So drink up!"

Remus smiled despite himself – Sirius good moods were infectious, and he supposed he did need a bit of a blowout.

He downed the drink. And giggled.

Several hours later, Sirius Black, Lord and Master of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, stood on a table in The White Wyvern, unsteadily conducting the whole pub in a sing along of his favourite song. And the last five songs to play had been his favourite. Remus watched, smiling, from the wall against which he'd propped himself (not because he was drunk, you understand, but because the room was warping in ways it shouldn't). His friend had dragged him into Knockturn Alley a short while ago, and the rebel in him had just gone along with it. He couldn't deny the atmosphere around here was brilliant.

Eventually Sirius stumbled down and pulled Remus over to a table, though Remus was careful not to fall into any of those warping eddies as they went… Moony should have protected him from the whiskey… that traitorous wolf…

"Ya sing like tha' again, an' they'll bar ya, ya know?" He took a sip of beer, because apparently neither he nor Sirius knew when to stop. Ah, well, it was rare they drank like this.

"Ha! They wouldn't dare. I'm Lord Black." Sirius suddenly stopped and looked straight at his friend. "Lord Black, like the Lord of Black, get it? Like the Lord of Darkness," He laughed heartily, barely able to speak, "I'm the Dark Lord!" And Remus spit out his mouthful as he laughed along.

When the laughter died down, and triggered by mention of the Dark Lord, Remus' mood dropped off a cliff as his thoughts changed direction, and freed from common sense, he quietly asked:

"Did you join him?"

Sirius kept smiling, but it no longer reached his eyes. "No, Moony, I didn't join Him."

"But the way you've been voting –"

"Acceptance. And I said no serious talk. Have another drink." But it was too late; the good mood had been shattered.

"You know he'll subjugate everyone – are you prepared to bow down?" Remus asked, hoping against hope for a belligerent denial.

"I already have." Sirius whispered and then downed his drink. Moony clearly heard the whisper though, and Remus sat bolt upright, sobering up significantly. Sirius saw and scoffed. "You think I'd be this charming and witty if nobody had helped me after I left Azkaban?"

"But, but Harry –" Remus' head was spinning. He'd had his suspicions, but never truly believed. How could Sirius betray him, betray Harry? Was he planning to hand her over? He couldn't believe it, but obviously he'd been wrong before. There was no scenario in his mind where Harry came off well in this.

"Harry and the Dark Lord have an understanding." Though Sirius couldn't begin to guess at what it was. "She isn't –"

"Black!" A heavily cloaked man grabbed Sirius' arm and hauled him to his feet violently. "Time to head home and sleep it off, don't you think." And with his free hand he aimed his wand at the werewolf.

"Get off me, Morgan. Relax." Sirius pulled his arm free. He wasn't threatened. "I told you to have a drink." Really, he pitied the Dark Lord's servants – he had warned tonight's babysitter to have a drink in order to make the night tolerable, because there's nothing worse than watching a bunch of drunken people when you're sober.

"Clearly, it's a good job I didn't! Ok, Lupin, let's step outside!" With that statement, Sirius sobered up enough to realise the seriousness of the situation. He only knew Morgan casually, and he seemed decent enough, but no Death Eater would allow Remus to walk away after hearing how Harry and the Dark Lord were acquainted. Remus would never let himself be obliviated, so Morgan would kill him.

Remus readily brought out his wand and returned the aim, but it was foolish, because if a fight started here, the entire pub would support the Death Eater.

In what he saw as his only move, Sirius raised his own wand and pointed it at Remus. The look of betrayal on his friend's face would stick with him for a while.

"Moony, please, come with us –"

"Not a chance, Black. The werewolf –" Sirius saw Remus flinch, not used to people knowing his secret.

"Lord Black." Sirius reminded sharply, staring Morgan down. If there's one thing Voldemort's world encouraged it was respect for blood purity and social hierarchy, and until Voldemort declared otherwise, the Black name still carried a hefty weight. The name was to be respected, even if Sirius himself wasn't. He turned back to his friend. "Remus, come with me, and I can explain everything. You know I would never betray you. You know that! Come with me and you won't have to fight anymore, you won't –" Sirius didn't finish his half sober sales pitch before Remus stepped forward with a raised hand.

"I'll listen to you." He said to both Sirius and Morgan's surprise. "I failed you all those years ago – this time I'll hear you out before I condemn you." That didn't exactly fill Sirius with hope, but as long as Remus was kept away from the Order he could be kept alive, and that's all he really cared about. He reached over and finished Remus' drink.

They walked slowly toward the door, Remus blockaded on both sides, but as soon as he felt fresh air he sent a stunner at Sirius and ran for cover. There was no way he would go quietly. Maybe if it was just Remus' life on the line he would risk it for friendship, but he felt he had a responsibility to Harriet – she was the innocent here and she had to come first.

He only made it a few steps before he had to raise his wand in defence, and he knew he wouldn't get out of here alive. His best friend in the world was going to kill him… He ducked behind a pavement sign and sent a desperate warning to Dumbledore: 'Sirius has betrayed us. Harry is not safe -" That was all he could send before a spell hit him with force, sending him flying back against the opposite wall, which met his body with a loud crunching sound. He heard Sirius shouting angrily, but blacked out before he could decipher any words.


	44. Bad, bad day Part Three

Albus Dumbledore was having a bad day. There was really no other way to describe it.

Well, actually he would say it started last night, when the giant squid had washed ashore, dead. Not the biggest tragedy in the world, but the creature had been poisoned at his school, and therefore was something he'd need to investigate. He wanted to blame the new staff, but couldn't imagine why a dark wizard would want to kill the Hogwarts squid. It was more likely a student.

It was something Minerva would have to deal with.

The biggest blow of the day had come around 3am, though the owl seeking entrance to his office hadn't woken him, for he was still up drafting his opposition to the latest outrageous proposition that was to be debated at the Ministry.

Technically, he was breaking the law by doing this, because his position as Chief Warlock obliged him to maintain a neutral stance, so if the proposal was passed and made it through to a vote in the Wizengamot, and people found out about his involvement, he would be compromised. And Albus couldn't afford to lose his position. Not now. As Chief Warlock he was kept apprised of all the important issues, and he didn't want to be left in the dark any more than he already was.

However, given the pro-Dark Lord trend, his knowledge of law, and his overall ability to compose a sound argument was essential if he was to stop the proposition, and like-minded witches and wizards at the Ministry were waiting on his 'script'. He couldn't believe it had come to this; couldn't believe that a motion to legally pardon the currently fugitive Death Eaters – a motion that just a few short months ago would have been shut down before it had even been drafted – would almost definitely succeed.

The people were simply afraid, and in their fear they were looking to those with power for protection. He knew how this would go. He'd seen despots rise to power in his lifetime, though Tom had managed to turn the public quicker than he'd ever seen. If only Albus had done something to disrupt his plans during those years of false complacency.

He'd just been adding the finishing touches to his counter argument, looking forward to the few hours' sleep he could get before daylight, when the owl arrived. Its letter carried the seal of the German government, though that didn't mean much to Albus anymore. The war in Germany would drag on for a few months more, but it was clear which side would come out victorious.

Reading the message though, all thoughts of war flew from his mind, and he collapsed into his chair, all his energy and determination suddenly sapped: Gellert Grindelwald had been found murdered in his cell.

Why?

Why now?!

Security around Nurmengard had been increased twofold, because many Grindelwald fans had been trying to free him lately. Was that why he was killed: the Light trying to remove the threat?

He had to see for himself. He had to see him with his own eyes. Gellert…

Racing from Hogwarts, he'd fled to Gellert's body. The few hours after that were something of a blur. Mercifully.

And then, just when he thought he'd pulled himself together, he'd decided to nip into Gringotts before heading over to the Ministry, and stumbled upon _Him_. He'd wanted to send money for Gellert's burial, assuming that no one else would want to pay for it. Nobody mourned Dark Lords – not publically.

He'd been walking down Diagon Alley, going over his Ministry strategy in his mind, when he saw Tom Riddle casually walking among the crowds up ahead. Tom Riddle. Not Voldemort. He paused for moment in shock, doubting himself. The alley was busy, but not as busy as one might expect it to be just days before Christmas. Surely it was a trick of the light, his subconscious projecting his troubles onto the faceless masses. But no, it was him. He was older, a man, and there was no trace of his more infamous visage, none of that waxy quality he'd had the last time they'd sat down together either. Amazing.

He saw him disappear down an alley to the left and quickly followed, knowing this could be his chance.

Voldemort walked steadily, and waited.

"Tom." There we go.

He turned slowly, eyebrow raised in question.

Albus walked into the alley, wand out and ready. "Your vanity is truly astonishing." He knew there were far more important issues, but he just couldn't get over the change in Voldemort's appearance. It seemed there was nothing Voldemort couldn't accomplish. Albus was not a man unable to appreciate Tom's appearance. He didn't understand how Tom could hate muggles, when his own muggle father had gifted him with such perfection.

Voldemort stood at ease, and tried not to laugh at the old man's confusion. He looked down to his own hand, flexing it a few time in thought. Harry's blood and sacrifice had returned him better than before, and he never tired of the reactions. "This was merely a pleasant, yet unintended side effect of my return." He didn't feel any need to take credit for Harry's Harry'ness.

"I was beginning to think you'd never show yourself." Dumbledore said calmly, carefully coming to stand opposite the most dangerous man in the world.

"I'm waiting for my moment." Voldemort tried not to look too obviously at the old man's wand: the Elder Wand. Power. Voldemort wanted that power, and he would get it, but in the meantime it was satisfying to know that Dumbledore's power had never truly rivalled his own – he had been using this weapon all along.

"You're waiting for the coup." Dumbledore didn't like this. Not one bit. He had always been able to get a reaction from Tom, usually fear, but now Tom seemed unconcerned. He looked as though Albus was merely an annoying insect in his space; like he didn't need to kill him, but would do so with minor effort and little care if he became too bothersome. He couldn't have gotten that much more powerful over the last few years, could he?

"I hardly think a coup will be necessary, do you?" Tom kept his tone even and authoritative, but he was enjoying this far more than he ought, and so didn't completely hide the smirk pulling at his lips.

Dumbledore's unease grew. Tom had changed in more than just appearance. Or maybe it was a trap, he suddenly thought as dread crept down his spine. He glanced back to the alley entrance and realised this alley shouldn't be here at all, so this had to be a trap! He double checked his surroundings and raised his wand, but Tom didn't seem to notice as he continued to speak.

"The people are out in the streets, demanding my leadership. Who am I to deny them?"

'And that has nothing to do with your followers whipping up the crowds and creating an environment of hysteria!' Albus wanted to snap, but kept a cool head. "They simply wish for reassurance, they aren't inviting you to strip them of all their rights." Tom batted away the argument with a dismissive wave of his hand. "They'll realise what you've done eventually."

"And it will be too late. I'll make an example of the first ones to rebel with absurd talk of _rights._ I do hope you're one of them."

Albus shook his head sadly. "And then what? Everything you've done, all the suffering you are responsible for. Once you've proven your power and overthrown Britain, will it make you happy in the end?"

"I should think so."

"No, Tom, you'll never know anything of happiness. Once your moment of victory passes, nothing will change for you." Maybe talk of emotions would trigger a reaction in Tom. "You will still die one day, miserable, friendless, and unloved." He couldn't push Gellert from his mind; he pictured him left alone to be murdered, with no one there with him, no one there to care.

At first he thought it had worked as Tom scoffed, but then as he finished speaking Tom's head cocked to the side thoughtfully.

"I have a friend." Voldemort declared softly, and with a calm sincerity that almost had Albus convinced.

"And when your 'friends' are no longer useful to you? Will you still call them friend then?" Voldemort had never seen people as anything more than tools, something to be used and discarded. Dumbledore knew Tom Riddle didn't assign people emotional value and couldn't imagine why he was pretending now, and he certainly didn't expect the wry little smile.

"I said 'friend' – singular. And despite my best efforts, they continue to prove themselves infinitely… useful." That word didn't sit right with Tom. "But I can assure you that my friend creates far more problems than they provide solutions." He was convinced Harry spent her time thinking up ways to be a nuisance.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to counter, but Voldemort had had enough. He'd done what he'd set out to do, and as a bonus maybe he'd even rattled the other wizard.

"Lower your wand, old man. I'll not fight you today."

What? Since when had Tom not wanted to fight him? "You will Tom, or it's over for you." Tom drew his wand, finally, but didn't raise it, and that was really making Albus uncomfortable. He gathered his power and prepared for battle. He had to take this chance, regardless of any trap.

"The building behind you." Voldemort began casually – he stood up straight now, gesturing to the building but keeping eye contact with Dumbledore with an imperious seriousness that belied his tone and made Albus sick to his stomach. "is Gambol and Japes. You may have noticed there's an impressive sale on, and the store is at its busiest. It's surely packed full of shoppers; families no doubt..." The two wizards stared at each other. Albus didn't like this. "I will not fight _you_. If you do not lower your wand and walk away, Gambol and Japes will be the first store I raze to the ground. But it will not be the last." It was a promise, one Albus didn't doubt he would fulfil. His face screwed up in disgust, but he lowered his wand.

"Is this how you care for 'your people'? Do you intend to build your new world on the bodies of murdered families, murdered children?" He spat, angry that he couldn't take the risk of firing at this despicable monster.

"Eggs and omelettes." Voldemort dismissed, his vibrant red eyes cold, and hard. He knew Dumbledore would never risk it.

Dumbledore swallowed as much anger as he could and made to walk away, before stopping and spitting over his shoulder: "You won't win Tom. You can't hide behind children forever!"

"How's my predecessor? Did you keep in touch? I do hope you visited recently." Tom snapped, not able to stop himself after being called a coward – the only reason he wouldn't fight him now was that he wanted him disgraced. He would not create such a powerful martyr, and besides duelling amid the holiday shoppers would hardly help his image.

Dumbledore paused again, the world around him momentarily melting as all at once he realised it was Tom who killed Gellert. He already held this man responsible for countless, senseless suffering and death, but it was this particular death that ignited real hatred within his aged heart.

"Why?" His voice came weaker than he'd have liked, but somehow encapsulated his raging, warring emotion.

Tom could feel the anger radiating from him. "Walk away, old man, and perhaps next time we meet you'll show your Lord the proper respect." He was probably pushing too far, but he was enjoying this too much to stop.

Dumbledore clenched his teeth. He wasn't quick enough, he knew, to defeat Tom here without substantial casualties, so he forced himself to walk away, because if he stayed any longer he would lose his temper, and countless families would pay the price.

It was a long while before he could think of anything other than Tom Riddle, but there was still work to do, and Albus' dreadful day was not over yet.

The motions he'd been fighting had flown through and would now be voted on in the Wizengamot, which meant the most loyal, most vicious among Voldemort's ranks would soon be free to reclaim their own seats in the judiciary and within a day become the very public generals of Lord Voldemort. Even more disturbing however were the two motions sneaked into the end of proceedings that would suspend habeas corpus - it had been suspended in the past, for example during the last war, but they were not currently at war! The right to a trial, to assure against illegal imprisonment was one of the most basic laws designed to protect the people from its government. Voldemort was arranging things so he could take power seamlessly and painlessly (ignoring the bloody silencing of opposition done mostly out of the public eye). Once he was in power, Tom could do as he liked with opponents and there could now be no legal recourse.

Tom was right; it wouldn't be a coup, it would be a damn coronation. Dumbledore could see Bagshot handing the Ministry over within days. And the public would cheer… By the time they realised he had _become_ the law, there'd be no way to oppose.

By 1am he had been awake for 43 of the most stressful hours of his life. He was getting ready to finally return to Hogwarts when the S.O.S communication reached him, and instead of crawling into his bed as he so desperately wanted to, he set off to find Remus.


	45. Bad, bad day Part Four

The sound of rapidly shuffling feet cut through the quiet of the dormitories. A gentle _lumos_ lit the room in a soft glow.

"Harriet!" Narcissa whispered harshly while shaking the girl, before physically lifting her into a sitting position.

Harry's eyes rolled in her skull as she struggled to wake up. "No. Stop it!" She whined, without knowing what she was protesting other than the fact she was being awoken. She dared to crack open her eyes. Narcissa was impeccably dressed as always, but her hair was half pulled up into a sleep-mussed bun and she wore no make-up.

"Up now Harry. Quickly." Narcissa whispered, pulling her to her feet now. Harry swayed dangerously, rubbing her eyes, but ultimately getting her bearings. "We have to go."

"Why, what's going on?" Asked Harry, waking up completely as she realised how odd this was and as adrenalin rushed through her system. The students were due to return home in a matter of hours, so something had to be seriously wrong if Tom was bringing her home right now. "Is the Dark Lord..?"

"Hush! Come now, quick sticks. Where's your wand?" Narcissa didn't wait for a response. She took the holly wand from Harry's bedside table, and then began to guide Harry from the room, tutting when the girl turned to grab her trunk. Knowing Harry the case was probably half empty, doomed to be frantically filled minutes before she was due to leave tomorrow, but Narcissa took it anyway, and promptly shrunk it down as they entered the common room, where Moore and Aehart were waiting.

The men seemed even more harried than Narcissa, but when Aehart tried to take Harry's arm she jumped back out of reach and scowled.

"We have to leave, Potter!" He told her, but didn't try to take her again when Moore's arm blocked his path.

"We have orders to deliver you home immediately." Moore tried tersely. "I will use force if you refuse to come."

Harry's scowl deepened, because she just couldn't be threatened by someone she knew worked for Tom. She didn't know what had gone wrong, but these people were being directed by Tom and so she knew he was fine, and if he was fine anything else could be fixed.

"Where's Draco?!" Harry asked sharply, spinning to Narcissa with an accusatory glare.

"Draco isn't at any risk, I assure you." The woman tried to reassure her, though Harry could see her instinctive maternal apprehension.

"I'm not going anywhere without Draco!" Harry declared, looking back at the men and just daring them to argue. She already knew Narcissa would not.

Moore did a quick calculation; it would take a minute to get the Malfoy boy, but he could spare the time if it meant he didn't have to manhandle the child in any way. He had witnessed the way the Dark Lord reacted to Harry's critical injury nearly a year ago: if he didn't extract Harry and something happened to her the Dark Lord would kill him – there was no doubt in his mind about that – but he imagined that hurting or even upsetting Harry when not absolutely necessary would also be bad for his health.

He ran to the first year male dorms without another word. He had a minute to spare, but no more than a minute.

Narcissa let out a long breath, clearly relieved to be taking Draco. Draco was really under no threat whatsoever because at the end of the day he was just an eleven year old student, and the worst Dumbledore could do was ask him a few questions. She pulled Harry close in a one armed hug while waiting out the agonisingly long seconds. Only minutes ago she had been woken by Gabor, who currently stood watch, and while this should be an easy task while Dumbledore was absent, no one knew when he would return. Apparently Sirius had been outed as a 'traitor', and the Dark Lord wanted Harry out of Dumbledore's reach should the man decide he needed to remove her from Sirius' care in order to protect her.

Moore soon returned with a disgruntled and dishevelled Draco. The boy was glaring at Moore, and so Harry glared too, but neither made any more fuss as they were rushed out of the castle.

The castle gates came into sight and they all thought they were free and away, when their impending fear was realised: Dumbledore appeared before them.

"I didn't think you could apparate in Hogwarts?" Harry whispered to Draco, who only shoved her arm to be quiet, because he had bigger worries. She took his point and started to worry herself. The gate was so close, and she knew if this went wrong she would be in so much trouble – if only they were a minute faster, they'd be home now. But she couldn't have left Draco behind, so they'd just have to work it out. Her view was blocked as the teachers moved in front, and four wands rose to meet one. Ok, so maybe she was going to have to work this out.

"Move aside." Gabor's voice was firm and calm.

"All four of you?" Dumbledore said softly, almost to himself. It wasn't like he didn't already know, but there was always hope. "If this is your resignation you're free to leave, but I cannot allow you to take the children." He declared more clearly, and as though to back up his words, McGonagall and Flitwick ran across to cage the group in, shortly followed by many other teachers. Harry and Draco were yanked forward by Narcissa, effectively placing them amid the four adults. Harry looked at her brother; his eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty. It wasn't looking good, and her hands began to shake ever so slightly. She couldn't let Narcissa and the others fight when they were so outnumbered, but she couldn't let them be captured or apprehended or whatever the old man was planning to do with them. And of course she couldn't let herself be taken away or she'd never get home.

Before any adult could react, she slipped free from their blockade and ran forward to stand between Dumbledore and Gabor.

"Actually, you can't stop them." She told the old man, and even though her voice trembled a bit, she stared him down with what she hoped was confidence.

"Damnit, Potter, get back here!" Gabor all but snarled, keeping his wand trained on his enemy while letting his eyes flicker around to the other dozen light wizards for the shortest moment. They couldn't fight their way out of this. They were outnumbered and with Dumbledore here they were outmatched. He had been preparing to use the children, or Potter at least, as hostages in order to get away. Whether it would have worked was debateable, but now? The idiot girl was going to get him killed, if not by Albus Dumbledore then most certainly by the Dark Lord.

"Harriet!" the others all called, but she ignored them, and stood, trembling but defiant in front of Tom's enemy.

"You can't stop Narcissa taking her own son!" Harry told the old man crossly. Legally, he actually could following the law regarding mandatory education, but Harry was winging it and hoping for the best.

"Maybe not," Albus gave kindly. It was as he feared: Sirius must have gotten to her if she was so willing to leave with these dark wizards. "but she cannot do likewise for you." Harry opened her mouth to object; to tell him that if he just checked his records he'd see Sirius had made Narcissa Malfoy one of Harry's 'named persons', and that she could therefore take her, but he continued: "and even if she could, I will not let you leave with them."

Harry scowled. "That's not your decision to make, Mr Dumbledore."

He looked at her. Eleven years old, wandless, and still standing up to defend those she considered friends. It was almost painful to see, for she was very much a child of Lily and James Potter.

"It is." He insisted, kindly and sincerely. "I failed you Harry, in your childhood. I understand that now, and I'm sorry." He had to get through to her somehow. However terribly things had turned out, Harry was still just an innocent caught up in something bigger than herself. She was ultimately the one who could beat Tom, and if she left with these dark wizards now, it was only a matter of time before he removed the threat. Death was the best she could hope for… He felt if he allowed her to freely walk away to such a dark fate, he would be somewhat responsible.

"And I truly regret if you ever felt abandoned. But I will not fail you a second time. I see you standing here so bravely, and I see Lily. Harry, to let you leave with these people would be to disgrace the memory of your parents. They were brave too. They laid down their lives to protect you –" She frowned at the implication that she was dishonouring her parents by going.

"Enough talking," Gabor tried to interrupt.

"You're sorry if I felt abandoned?!" Harry cried suddenly, angry that he was trying to use her parents against her. Her heart pounded wildly. All those years in the dark cramped cupboard under the stairs crashed around her. She felt herself wanting to forgive, but she could not forget, and as those memories played a phantom pain in her heart, a wisp of a child's anguish, ignited. Knowing she wasn't wanted, and wasn't loved. Banished from the wizarding world and shunned by her family – Tom had saved her, mind and body, but right now this wasn't about him. She would get home, and she would take Draco and Narcissa and Moore and Gabor and Aehart, and not because she felt responsible for protecting them (though she did), but because she would not let Dumbledore win. "You don't get to be sorry, and I don't care if you are! You are nothing to me! And you are nothing to the Dark Lord!" The declaration shocked Dumbledore for a moment, not because she was defending Tom, but because as he thought back to his recent encounter with him her words rang true: the reason Tom didn't care to fight him as soon as the opportunity arose had nothing to do with fear; it was because he didn't think Albus worth the effort.

Harry went on: "You took the victory my parents' deaths brought, and then left me behind so you could enjoy it. You left me with hateful muggles and forced me to stay even after you discovered how unhappy I was there. Your sorry is meaningless."

Narcissa listened to Harry's rant. One day she would sit Harry down and insist on hearing everything about her life before Malfoy Manor.

"I understand your anger, but I will not let you leave."

Suddenly, Draco yanked his shoulder from his mother's grasp and came to stand beside Harry. He did have a wand and pointed it at his headmaster, though he had no idea whatsoever what he could possibly cast. He hated hearing that pain in Harry's voice. He knew more than his mother about Harry's childhood, but he didn't know everything. "Stay away from her!" He spat menacingly, determined not to let his sister stand alone, even as he shook with fear.

Dumbledore gave the Malfoy child an odd look. From his own casual observance, Draco was exactly what he'd been expecting from a scion of Britain's most influential, blueblood, pureblood, old world, not to mention disgustingly rich family. He did not expect this: the boy should have been hiding behind his mother, clinging to her skirts.

"If you wish to protect Harry, let her stay here where it's safe. I know you mean well, but she is in grave danger."

Harry took Draco's left hand and held it tightly. He reminded her how loved she was, despite Dumbledore, and he gave her strength. All around, the Hogwarts staff listened to Dumbledore's efforts with keen interest, though they never dropped their threatening stance."I am not in danger. Unless you're planning to hurt me?"

Albus ignored the accusation. "Please, Harry, whatever you've been told, whatever you've been promised, you must understand that these people do not care for you, and Voldemort will not let you live. He tried to kill you as an infant and he will try again." Feeling abandoned, it was only natural for her to cling to the first group to offer her affection, he thought.

Harry wondered how to make him understand that it wasn't worth his effort to fight her friends. In many ways, she needed him to give up on her. Oh…

She reached across to take hold of a charm, and took a deep breath. "*Hide*" And just like that, Albus found himself face to face with the Malfoys' niece.

His eyes narrowed as several realisations slammed into his mind, even though none of this made sense. Henrietta had been with the Malfoys long before the attack on the Dursley house.

Draco looked wide-eyed at Harry. Henrietta was supposed to be a secret. The Dark Lord had been very clear about that, and their friends had been made to understand the unspeakable consequences of betraying this secret, and yet Harry had given it away freely. He tried to swallow his dread about how the Dark Lord would react:

"The Dark Lord would never allow anyone to hurt Harry!" He said, while Harry spoke simultaneously:

"I'm not in any danger. Don't you see? I'm with family. Just let us leave." She saw Dumbledore's shock and confusion, but knew he wasn't convinced. She still had one card to play; one thing that might make him give up and let them all leave…

"Step away from them, Harry." Dumbledore ordered, ignoring the children's claims, because they simply couldn't be true. He would find out what was going on, what Sirius had been up to, but for now he would get the children out of the way so he could deal with the dark adults.

Harry pulled her hand free of Draco and took a step forward, and for a moment Albus thought she was finally beginning to listen to him. But then she spoke, and any lingering hope evaporated in an instant.

"I killed Severus Snape." Her declaration was sure and hard, and it seemed to echo around the crowd ominously. Outwardly, she gave no impression other than uncaring confidence, knowing she had to sell this if he was ever going to give up on her. Several gasps were heard behind her, one of which definitely belonged to Narcissa, and Harry had to force herself not to flinch. Dumbledore's kind eyes seemed disinclined to believe her, so she went on. "I took a knife and slid it into his chest like he was made of butter."

She wasn't lying, Albus could tell, and he felt his blood running cold. He'd lost her to the Dark before he even knew she was at risk of being lost. "And you don't care that you destroyed a good man? That you took a brilliant mind from the world? That you took a life?"

She didn't have to fake her apathy to his words as much as she'd have liked. She'd come to accept her terrible crime. Still, she needed to make him understand that she could not be 'redeemed' to the 'Light'.

"Do you weep for the bacteria on your hands when you use soap?" she asked callously. It was something she'd heard Tom say in relation to muggles, and thought would work well to shock her foe. It did.

Albus sighed, but lowered his wand. He still believed she was in mortal danger, but she had clearly made her choice, as unfortunate and ill-informed as it was. She would have to live with it.

"Albus, surely we can't let…" A stray stunner cut short Minerva's objections, and before anyone could blink many shots were being fired back and forth. However, with Dumbledore standing aside, Harry's guardians had only to deflect as they edged towards the gates, and as soon as they were clear, Gabor yanked Harry to him and disapparated.

Tom, having watched everything since Harry's rude awakening was less than impressed, both with how his people had handled the night, and with Harry's intervention, even though in the end she had enabled them to get away without any blood being spilt. He didn't want her other identity revealed ever, because he didn't want to make her a target for the light. It would take but a word to protect her from Dark wizards, but to protect her from those not under his control would take real effort.

Harry's heart was still pounding violently when they arrived at Bleeding Wolf Lane. She saw Tom and Lucius were waiting for them, and her emotions broke free as a feeling of relief and safety finally washed over her.

Tom looked at Draco, before giving her flat eyes that made clear how idiotic she was. She didn't care, with tears making her eyes shine brightly she ran, and Tom braced himself – she didn't usually act like this when others were present, but…

She didn't run into his arms, she ran past him and wrapped her arms around Lucius.

"I'm sorry I hexed you!" She told the man, who saw his Lord's curious gaze and carefully raised his arms to embrace the apologetic child.

Tom sighed heavily, before turning to deal with the others.

* * *

One Christmas/transition chapter then the time skip ;) xx


	46. A Charmed Life

Every Christmas morning, Harry's mind underwent the same process. Before she was even fully conscious, she'd somehow know it was Christmas, and so her waking was always accompanied by a gnawing heartache somewhere in her stomach, a wretched dread. However then she'd open those sad eyes and realise she was at home in Malfoy Manor, not back with her muggle family, and slowly but surely the heartache was replaced with the hysterical excitement of a child on Christmas morning. She didn't much think about the Dursleys, but on days such as this it was always impossible not to look back. Her first thoughts were never about presents. They consisted of memories of being excluded from family festivities, of the people she was supposed to rely on for love going out of their way to make sure she knew she was unloved and unwelcome, of getting her hopes up every year despite Tom's warnings… She didn't think that pain would ever go away.

But that was over four years ago, and now she had a family, and love and affection, and there would be too much food, and maybe a small glass of sherry, and probably a snappy fight between Lucius and Sirius, and heaven help her, _presents_! For Harry, Christmas may not have revolved around material things, but it was hard not to get excited when she had a handful of the richest families in England buying for her.

She peaked out from beneath the duvet, but kept it up over her mouth to hide the ridiculous grin. The curtains had been drawn, letting in the glorious winter sunshine, and beyond her bed white and silver snowflakes softly fell, filling the air with a gentle glittery splendour. She watched for a while as the tiny sparkly shards created an ethereal glow and turned her room into a wonderland. The downpour was constant, though the magical snow disappeared before it could settle on any furnishings, and as she watched any lingering thoughts about the past were washed away. Christmas was wonderful.

After wrestling her attention away, it didn't take long to get ready for the day, even with Draco hogging the bathroom as usual. When she did emerge, she was surprised to see Draco waiting for her, but then she noticed a curious look in his eye and started to get the distinct impression that she was already in trouble.

"What happened?" She asked, as the two walked beside each other.

"I don't know, they won't let me in without you, but Uncle Sirius is here and they're at it already. I even heard mum arguing!" Harry paused at the stairs. Sirius would usually join them for Christmas dinner, along with the Lestranges, but he never came over first thing. And she had never known Narcissa to be drawn into Lucius and Sirius' fights before: it had to be about her…

Draco didn't think it was anything too serious, but Harry worried. She hadn't seen her Godfather since she got back from Hogwarts. He was being punished for his part in outing Harry to Dumbledore, and Tom said she could only see him on Christmas Day. She couldn't tease out any hint of what Sirius was doing for the rest of the holidays, so she could only hope his not having access to Harriet was the full extent of his punishment. That hope was a comforting delusion that she couldn't quite make herself accept, but once she saw him with her own two eyes – saw he still had his tongue, and both arms and legs, and could still master the English language and recall his two times tables – she would feel better.

"Did you –"

"I couldn't hear what they were arguing about." Draco said, more impatient to get at the presents than worry about quarrelling adults. "Come on." He held out his hand, which Harry took gratefully before starting the decent. Unless Draco was the one landing her in trouble, he had her back, and vice versa.

As far as Harry knew, no one but family was visiting this Christmas, but the Manor was still decorated as though the Minister and his entire government were coming to tea. Some sort of evergreen plant wound around the banister, its tiny white blossoms blooming every time someone walked by. Down in the entry hall was the biggest of this year's Christmas trees, decorated almost entirely in silver and white bows and baubles. The doorways were framed with what Harry could only describe as bundles of twigs dipped in fairy dust. They were a shimmery silver – and silver seemed to be very much Narcissa's theme this year – and the portal they encompassed appeared to lead out into a wintery forest, though when Harry and Draco stepped through she found they simply led to the next room as normal. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

" _I don't know how you do it."_ Tom's voice suddenly cut through her thoughts, not so much amused as outright laughing at her. That made her a little more nervous about what she was walking into.

Harry was mad at Tom for being mad at her. After everything was settled on the morning she fled Hogwarts, Tom had banished her from Bleeding Wolf Lane. He'd _banished_ her! That's not what he was calling it, but that's what it was. He said she had become too involved with things she had no business being involved in, and therefore was to be distanced from it. It hurt, because her best friend was basically saying he didn't trust her. She understood Tom liked order and control, and that she'd messed things up for him, but she hadn't exactly given away all his plans and secrets. She'd only exposed herself, and only for the sake of getting everyone home unscathed (which she achieved, but only pointed out once, because when she'd made that argument Tom got a peculiar twitch that made her believe he was seriously contemplating doing a little scathing – probably to undo her achievement, because he was mean like that).

Harry hated this punishment! Not being able to visit Tom and Sirius whenever she liked was bad enough, but this was her last opportunity to spend time with the Azkaban escapees. They would shortly be free men, and would therefore be moving out of Bleeding Wolf Lane, and she couldn't help but think the mansion would become cold and empty without them. She worried that Tom would get lonely.

Besides all that though, she hated being kept out of the loop, and damn it if she wasn't curious to know what was going on. Nobody would tell her a thing – no doubt Tom's orders. She didn't even know what Sirius had done to out her. The elves were of no help: the moment she'd ordered one to fetch a newspaper it had run and told Lucius! Wretched creature! And naturally she was grounded for her rash intervention with Dumbledore – because apparently Narcissa felt saving them all from harm was a punishable offence.

It would have been easier had Tom simply gotten angry with her; just punished her and got it over with. She wished he'd dealt with her as her Lord, not her best friend. Stupid Tom.

"Ow!" Draco looked at her askance, but she shook away his concern while rubbing at her scar. It didn't really hurt, just made her jump.

" _Hurry up. I haven't got all day."_ Tom said, though he still seemed to be in good spirits despite his words.

When the children entered the family room there was no ongoing argument, though that was hardly surprising with the Dark Lord standing right there.

"Happy Yuletide." Narcissa greeted them, her tone only a little stilted – she had no idea how Harry was always so unaffected by Voldemort's presence. The man emanated power.

"Merry Christmas!" The girl chimed brightly, trying to ignore the slight lingering tension. The adults were trying their best not to let it show, but Harry could see the taut lines of Lucius face as he avoided eye contact with Sirius, and as she hugged her fully limbed, sane godfather she caught the smug, mischievous glint in his eye.

She went on to greet the Lestranges who, unusually, were also here before breakfast.

" _What's going on?"_ She asked Tom, but was quickly distracted when she heard what could only be the soft whine of a kitten… or a tiger cub… and suddenly she knew exactly what they had been arguing about: Sirius had come through and got the tiger, and he had taken up her suggestion of dumping the animal on the Malfoys. She'd meant for him to give them notice though… Whatever, she could be in as much trouble as they liked if she got a tiger out of it!

Her head snapped towards the cry that originated somewhere behind Tom, who was looking rather impatient and bored. He waved his hand, causing the air behind him to ripple and tear, like there was a sheer translucent fabric falling away to reveal the rest of the room was not as empty as it first appeared.

A tree stood in the corner, decorated to the hilt with all sorts of colours and old family heirlooms – no theme in here. As was to be expected, beneath the tree was a small ocean of gifts, some wrapped expertly and tied with ribbons and beads and bows, and some, predominately those from Draco, looked like the type of suspect package the Royal Mail might destroy on sight.

Most out of place however, was the small enclosure, within which were five adorable bundles of fur. Two white and three orange. Five…

"Oh, erm…" Harry gave a nervous little laugh and bit her lip. _This was definitely not her fault! …How many people had she asked again?_ She stepped over the foot high picket fence, and through the barrier of magic that encircled the cubs _. I mean, didn't they talk to each other? Coordinate gifts? No, definitely not her fault._ "Draco, look." The cubs were play fighting with one another, and she pet the closest one, which then proceeded to fight her hand.

"Be careful. They will need to be trained." Tom said sternly as he moved to stand beside the roaring fireplace, causing Draco to pause mid step to check he wasn't being addressed before moving to join Harry. Facing away from the others, they shared a wicked grin, and knelt to meet their new pets. The cubs were very young, but already the size of house cats.

"The white ones are from Lucius and I. One for each of you." Narcissa spoke up in the oddly quiet room. Both children felt rather giddy with the animals but Draco couldn't relax enough to let it show with the Dark Lord there, besides he didn't want anyone to see his childish side.

Harriet wasn't so bothered. "Coconut." She told Draco, scooping up the white cub trying to bite her. "I'm calling mine Coconut."

"You can't call a tiger Coconut!" Draco carefully scratched behind the ears of the other white cub, which jumped up onto his lap, only to roll off the other side.

"Why not?"

"They're deadly creatures! They should have names like Diego, or Thor, or –"

"You can call yours Diego. I saw mine: I thought 'coconut': I'm calling him coconut." Harry insisted, trying to manage the play fighting. God, they were so adorable!

"Well, thank you for that insight into the workings of your mind. It explains a lot." Draco sneered. He lifted his arm, and his grin spread as he watched one of the orange cubs clinging to his wrist. He tickled its belly with one finger and it immediately fell back onto his knees, shaking its head before pouncing for his chest. "Besides, I'm calling the white one Phantom. This one is definitely Diego." Suddenly he spun round to his parents. "One of these ones is mine too, right?" Harry too looked around expectantly to hear the answer.

After taking a long, slow breath, Lucius answered, "Yes. _Lord_ Black thought it best to buy a tiger for all three of you." His words were clipped, and he was clearly unhappy.

"I _am_ thoughtful." Sirius agreed with a solemn nod. "I didn't want to be seen showing favouritism."

The children lost interest in the conversation and turned back to the cubs, ignoring the adults and discussing whether they would get to name Cassie's tiger.

Lucius' eyes became daggers. "I'm sure we'd have all understood your favouring your goddaughter in this matter."

"Not at all." Sirius waved an overly benevolent hand. "And I thought it more kind to keep the animals together so they wouldn't get lonely."

"Naturally." Lucius ground out, hardly feeling the calming hand Narcissa placed upon his arm. "Thoughtful _and_ kind. A prince among men." He took a step in Sirius direction. "And in your thoughtful benevolence it didn't occur to you that we might need notice before you dumped the creatures here?"

Sirius did feel bad about how things had turned out – that the Malfoys hadn't known he was bringing the cats – but winding up Lucius Malfoy was his favourite pastime, so he didn't look at all abashed as he explained:

"I told cousin Bellatrix, I told her it was a secret, so I thought for sure she'd let you both know."

Lucius and Narcissa turned to Bella, who was holding Cassie, cooing about tigers as she pointed to them, but starting cackling loudly in response to Sirius' defence.

Rodolphus quickly took his startled daughter and shook his head. "I agree with Bella: it's funnier this way." That left Lucius spitting feathers.

"What's the problem? You have a habitat set up already." Sirius shrugged.

"You didn't know that. It's the principle of the thing!" Narcissa finally joined in, because really, how was anyone supposed to react to receiving three tigers out of the blue?! "And you!" She rounded on Bella, who was now swaying a little, with wide, laughing eyes. "You aren't helping: giving a child one of the most venomous creatures in the world!"

"Shhh!" Bella snapped. "Anyway it's fine – she can talk to him. She'll be perfectly safe." She took a large box and shoved it onto the lap of a surprised Harry, before getting back into the debate.

"Perfectly sa– did it never occur to anyone that there is a reason the children haven't had pets until now? That maybe we don't want this place being turned into a zoo?"

"It's hardly a zoo." Sirius scoffed. "The Malfoy estate is huge, and I would hardly call big cats housed on the other side of it 'pets'."

Harry looked at Draco before slowly opening Bella's gift. Having named their own cats Phantom, Diego, Coconut and Spice, Harry and Draco decided to name the left over tiger, Tiger – just until Cassiopeia was old enough to name him herself.

Within the box, Harry found a tiny, baby tiger snake. It was probably Bella's idea of a joke, knowing as she did about the too-many-tigers situation.

"*Hello, beautiful.*" She hissed softly.

"Ew." Draco turned up his nose as Harry lifted the little snake free.

"Don't 'ew' Aniseed." "*You just ignore the mean boy, Aniseed."

"Aniseed?" Draco shook his head, but then frowned. Coconut, Spice, and Aniseed? "Harry, are you hungry?"

"What? No, why?" The tigers were too curious about the new creature, so Harry let Aniseed wrap around her wrist and stepped away from them. She needed to thank everyone anyway, because she was the luckiest girl in the world.

It was only when she stood and faced the adults, Spice snapping at her heels, that she realised they were still arguing. And the argument had gotten quite heated: Bella had her wand out, and Lucius and Sirius were an inch apart. One glance at Tom, who stood with his arms crossed, statue-still save for a single finger tapping incessantly against his bicep, and staring at a nondescript spot on the floor, and she knew her family were seconds away from being tortured.

" _Tell me Harry, I'm curious: how long would it take you to mourn these peons, and how tiresome do you think that mourning would be? For me."_

Harry gulped, before shouting out, "OUCH!" Aniseed popped his head up between her knuckles and hissed unhappily, but aside from making him jump the desired effect was instantaneous. Everyone stopped talking and looked at her, worry and dread washing away any animosity. She smiled. "I'm kidding. I'm fine."

They watched as she sent a triumphant smile to the Dark Lord, and their dread intensified. It was unthinkable of them to have acted with such a lack of propriety. Each of them started to offer apologises and beg pardon. It might be understandable for soldiers to occasionally forget themselves, to get into fights and such when they were celebrating and drunk, but even then they would be respectful of Voldemort's presence! There was no excuse for their behaviour so early in the day.

"Enough." Voldemort spoke softly, but his single word cut through their grovelling like a knife and left blessed silence. His expression hadn't changed though, and he gave no indication of whether he was appeased. Not even Harry could tell what Tom was thinking, and so decided to move things along.

" _Have you seen Aniseed?"_ She asked him tentatively, holding up the snake for him to see.

"Today of all days." The disgust in Voldemort's voice made the adults look down in shame. "As we stand at the brink of achieving that for which we have worked so hard, for which we have sacrificed and spilled blood."

Harry's ears perked up at that: what was happing today? However she knew better than to intervene and ask at this moment. He was ignoring her, which aside from being incredibly annoying, was a clear sign any distraction would only make things worse.

"We have in our grasp the fate of the entire world, and you find it appropriate to stand before me squabbling like school yard children!" They could feel Voldemort's furious glare even as they kept their eyes on the ground. They could all feel the malicious intent in his magic, and they all knew it wasn't mercy that stayed his hand in cursing them, it was convenience. Today the Minister of Magic would bow before the Dark Lord, publically handing over power in front of cheering crowds. He would give his first public address as Leader of the wizarding world, and it would hardly look good to have several of his top generals standing beside him a broken trembling mess! And on the off chance Dumbledore and his Order showed up, he'd need them in fighting form.

"Get out." He told them in a deadly hiss. "I don't want to catch sight of any of you until we reconvene at the Ministry."

Tom had a lot riding on today, and would do nothing to weaken his army. After Harry had declared herself on the side of Lord Voldemort, Dumbledore had gone underground. Apparently he had realised he didn't have the ability to take on the power or popularity of Voldemort's machine head on, and was no doubt planning his downfall in the shadows. Tom had been furious with Harry when he learned this, and had to send her away, for her own protection. He wanted the old man in plain sight, where he could see any move coming, not hiding away planning Salazar knows what! The media backlash had been enormous. There were headlines claiming he'd run away and left wizard kind to face the muggle threat; that he had attempted to kidnap Harry Potter because of her political views; there was even a headline claiming he had fled with the Philosopher's Stone, having stolen it from his supposed friend, Nicholas Flamel. That last headline had intrigued Voldemort, for it had not originated from himself. He'd asked the people he'd placed at Hogwarts about it, but they knew nothing more than was printed in the papers: that Flamel had lent the Stone to Dumbledore for safekeeping, and had never seen it again. It was just another reason for him to hate the old man, and another thing he planned to take from him.

Everyone scrambled to leave; Bella's stricken face a mess with repentant tears. Harry took Draco's hand to lead him away too, but was stopped by Tom.

"Not you, Harriet."

So, chewing her lip, she nodded at her brother to leave and turned to face the angry Dark Lord. She wouldn't take responsibility for the tigers, but could admit this was probably her fault: Tom's followers only relaxed (somewhat) in his presence when she was there. She changed the dynamic somehow. They'd grown used to seeing him informally. Still, to almost start duelling while he was only a few metres away was going too far.

"You didn't get me a tiger, did you?" Harry asked cheekily, trying to lighten the mood. To her immense relief, Tom smiled – she wasn't in trouble after all.

"No, Harriet, I didn't get you a tiger. I think you'll have quite enough to manage as it is." He teased, walking over to take a seat in one of the family room's overstuffed armchairs, and after Harry took the other they settled into carefree chatting – mostly about the new animals, and whether Nagini would want to eat Aniseed. Whatever it was that was happening today clearly wasn't really worrying him, and that made Harriet feel better. In fact she was starting to think he had feigned anger at the others just to make them leave.

Finally, with Aniseed curled up on his lap, Tom brought over a small, round, glass-topped side table, and set his gift upon it. It was a black box about 7cm x 7cm x 7cm, with a black lace bow, which made Harry really curious, because she couldn't remember the last time Tom got her a wrappable gift. Physically humming with excitement (though she would later deny this), Harry moved to her knees in front of the table and wasted no time pulling the black bow loose.

The sides of the box folded themselves back to create a black velvet stand beneath the biggest diamond (?) Harry had ever seen. "Oh my god." She breathed, reaching out to make sure it was actually real.

Frowning at the muggle-ism, He clarified, "The largest clear cut diamond in the world." And she immediately snapped her hand away, afraid to even touch it. He smirked at her reaction. "Over 530 carats. It won't break."

"Oh my god." She repeated, the sight of the stone leaving her otherwise speechless. She didn't know much about jewellery, but had heard Narcissa boasting about the diamond jewellery she had, and was 90% sure they were all in the single digits, carat wise. 530?

Shaking his head, Tom gave her a moment, choosing instead to pet Aniseed – what a ridiculous name for a deadly snake!

One of the endless perks of overthrowing the muggle Kingdom was gaining possession of the Crown Estate; castles, palaces, and of course, the Crown Jewels. One would think being ruler was enough, but Tom only felt free now that he knew he would never again have to rely on his servants for monetary support. He'd set aside a few castles for Harriet – she would need somewhere to live when she was older, and he hardly felt the small cottage that still stood as a memorial to her folks was appropriate. And he'd been fair is sharing much of the Estate, for he had promised his followers material reward, and he was sure many Pureblood spouses would be receiving the greatest Yule gifts imaginable this year. Property, land, and jewellery; the things that held their value no matter the regime. He had taken other property too, some through violence and some with offers of protection. For example, the Marquess of Bath had handed over Longleat House after a short negotiation, and Tom had given that property to the Malfoys. Actually, the Malfoys had gotten more than their fair share out of all this, and that had more to do with their love and care of Harriet than it did Lucius' no doubt excellent service over the years.

The Cullinan 1, the diamond he was gifting to Harriet, had been part of the Sovereign's Sceptre with Cross, and at first Tom had planned on simply giving Harriet the entire thing. However people were often quick to misinterpret a kind thought, and the symbolism of giving Harry Potter an object that represented one's power as Head of State could backfire on him – He was now Head of State, or he would be in a few short hours, and he didn't need the Light putting any hope in Harriet.

"It won't break." He repeated with a laugh, for she still hadn't touched it. "A diamond of this calibre and size is unmatched in its capacity for storing power. I plan to use it as a cornerstone in creating a new protection ward around–"

"Tom!" Harry finally dragged her eyes away to look up at her best friend in disbelief. Was power really the only thing he saw when he looked at the diamond?! "Look!" She insisted, "It's beautiful."

He frowned, but otherwise did as asked. He didn't know what was supposed to be so breathing-taking about a lump of dense carbon, but he tried to see it as she did. What was it? Was its beauty to be found in the refraction of light? The splitting of the spectrum? He could admit the sparkle of colours, and the brilliance of its shine were pleasing to the eye, but that hardly made the object special… He glanced up to Harry, and caught the brightest flash of the diamond reflected in her wide, wonder-filled eyes: an all-consuming fire within an enchanted emerald kiln.

And suddenly, looking back down at the lump of old carbon, he thought maybe he finally understood. It was beautiful. Breath-taking, really.

"Okay." Harry broke the silence after some time, moving to fetch a small package from under the tree. "This is going to seem unbelievably stupid now… but… well, here." She handed him her gift and stood awkwardly waiting for him to open it. Even if she had bought an awesome gift, nothing could follow the Cullinan!

He didn't doubt it would be 'unbelievably stupid', but that was simply one of the things you have to put up with when your best friend is a little girl. With a resigned sigh, he tore the Slytherin green paper open: a small red stone fell onto his lap, causing Aniseed to hiss as menacingly as a baby could hiss. It was a small red stone he readily recognized.

And Voldemort laughed. "Oh, Harriet." And she scowled as he continued to laugh.

* * *

 **Whoop! Christmas finally done and everyone in Harry's world is spoiled rotten ;) xx**


	47. Solitary

**Harriet's fifteenth Birthday:**

Tom's greatest regret in life (for he was now the well-rounded, well-adjusted, emotionally aware sort of man than could acknowledge his regrets), was not using the Philosopher's Stone, or some other contrivance, to freeze Harriet Potter in time. Now, he knew most people would call him 'evil' for wanting such a thing, and that there would no doubt be some inconsequential moral objections about not allowing a child to grow up. But really! She was just so much easier to deal with when she was younger: simpler, and honestly he thought she was a happier eleven year old than she was a teenager.

More than anything though, he didn't like how their relationship changed as she grew. Their friendship had always been some uncontrollable, shifting thing, but until the last few years it had shifted in one direction: they got closer – As she aged her ability to understand him evolved, and he in turn learned to accept Harriet's agency over her own life, and as unconventional as their friendship was, they were close.

Then, he allowed her to grow up (unfortunately), and things got harder. He used to think she existed to annoy him, but now he believed she existed to mortify him, and that drove a wedge between them. And just when he'd got his head around having a friend!

His first clue that things would get harder came during Easter break of her first year at Hogwarts, and it was such a trifling little thing at first:

* * *

 **Four years earlier:**

Anichka wrapped her legs around Sirius, pulling him in closer, deeper. One hand raked down his back, while the other gripped his hair, pulling his skilled tongue away from her breasts in order to kiss him between shuddering breaths. One of his strong arms reached around her back to pull them both into a sitting position, and she moaned loudly at the added friction,

"Oh, Sirius, oh fuck," She got louder, throwing back her head as that nirvana inducing tension began to spread, and the rest of the world began to fall away: The Dark Lord's mansion, the bright orange of the sunset spilling through the large windows of Sirius' room, the silk sheets beneath them, the swish of the door and the excited tones of Harriet Potter –! She screamed in shock.

"Hey Sirius, did you –" Harriet froze in horror, momentarily unable to move an inch, even as Sirius and Anichka disentangled themselves with impressive speed, "Oh…" Harriet whispered as her mind, to her mortification, caught up with what was going on, "Nooo" she said under her breath while slowly backing out of the room and pulling the door closed, "No, no, no ,no ,no, no, no."

Once the traumatising view had been replaced with the heavy but delicately carved wood of the door, Harriet spun and sped away at full speed. Oh god… oh, EW…

"Shit!" Sirius exclaimed as he dressed rapidly, fumbling to keep his buttons straight.

Anichka wrapped a sheet around herself and then grabbed his wrists, trying to calm him, "Hey, slow down. It's okay –"

He yanked himself free and snapped at her, "It's NOT okay," Before forcing himself to take a deep breath, he shook his head and turned back to her, "Sorry. I'm sorry, but I have to go stop her."

"Hey, it's okay," She repeated softly," I know my dad can be protective, but he was going to find out about us sooner or later."

Now dressed (as dressed as time would allow) he pulled the door open, before pausing again to look at Anichka Dolohov. Merlin, she was so beautiful, he thought. Her deep brown hair was always full and luscious, falling to frame her delicate face, even when in all rights it should have been matted with sweat. She was ten years his junior, but in many ways wiser than he.

And she was the only woman he'd had feelings for since getting out of Azkaban, but she was right about her father – Dolohov was a dangerous man, so he was insistent on keeping their affair secret until he was sure.

He turned, cupping her face in his hands. He was sure now – he was willing to face Dolohov for her sake… but that wasn't his imminent worry, because Harry wasn't running away to Anichka's father! The Dark Lord was going to have his balls!

Tom was listening to opposing territory claims when Harry burst through the doors of his office with her eyes closed, exclaiming loudly, "You have to _obliviate_ me!" He might have chastised her for interrupting, but settling these land disputes was the absolute most boring part of setting up the new socioeconomic order.

Tom eyed her, before commanding, "Avery, _obliviate_ Harriet. Take everything."

Her eyes snapped open to take in the three other men present. Avery was rigid as his mind whirled to decide how to proceed: He wouldn't dream of disobeying such a direct order, but the Dark Lord never allowed anyone to harm Harriet, and so he was 75-80% sure not to proceed. He glanced across to Lucius and Minister Bagshot, and barely concealed his sigh of relief when Lucius gave him a miniscule head shake. He stayed seated.

Harriet rolled her eyes at Avery's behaviour and walked up to Tom's desk.

" _Tom, Sirius is upstairs! Having_ _ **sex!**_ _With_ _ **Anichka Dolohov**_ _! And it's very, very_ _ **gross**_ _!"_ She was going to die of _Ew._

" _Harriet, Sirius can sleep with whomever he wishes."_ He replied dismissively. But then he looked and saw how pale she was, and suddenly, just like that, for the first time in a very, very long time, he wasn't comfortable dealing with her. He didn't _want_ to deal with her. Tom had never really been age appropriate with Harry - he'd exposed her to pain and death for years, but for some reason discussing Black's sex life with her made him uncomfortable. There was nothing really inappropriate about this conversation, nothing graphic, he just didn't want to have it. He hardened his face, and spoke pointedly, "Sirius is waiting outside. Lucius, Harry, you are dismissed." He'd let Lucius deal with it! The blond stood to leave, confused about what was going on and what he was walking into, while Harry opened her mouth to object, "Now!"

And so Lucius hurried Harry from the room.

It didn't take long for Harriet to get over Sirius and Anichka – certainly less time than it took Anichka's father! In the end, the Dark Lord, Sirius, Anichka, and her father decided that the only way forward was for Sirius and Anichka to marry. She was delighted, of course, and though Dolohov was loathe to give away his youngest child, there were few Houses more prestigious than Black!

The only problem left was that Sirius refused to get married without his only true friend present.

* * *

Remus rose lazily from the bed at the sound of multiple footsteps. He didn't know exactly how long he'd been in this cell, though he had been through three transformations and therefore knew it had been at least three months. In that time he'd spoken to no one. Not one single soul. Many people had come and gone past his bars, most he recognised as known Death Eaters, but none had so much as looked his way, never mind responded to his questions. Therefore he wasn't hopeful that these latest visitors had anything to do with him, but getting up to see who it was was the closest thing he had to entertainment.

He was going bloody crazy, he knew that. He was starting to appreciate the little comforts he had: the room was large enough to pace around, the bed was comfortable, and he was fed three times a day. One of the walls had even opened during the full moons to reveal a small parkland – without Wolfsbane Moony would have hurt himself trying to break free had he been trapped. None of it made any sense. And of course the mania-inducing isolation meant that for the last few weeks he'd been looking forward to facing Voldemort – something he should have dreaded – because at least Voldemort would speak, and he could interact, and at this point he would take pain over this! He had hurt himself a few times, just for the distraction. Just to feel. He was losing emotional control – yesterday he'd burst into tears three times for absolutely no reason – but if he knew that, surely he wasn't completely mad, right? Mad people don't know they're mad. Or, maybe, him making the assumption that he wasn't mad, did mean he was mad…

" – doesn't matter. I just don't like it down here." Remus jerked out of his sluggish, confused state when he heard Harry's voice.

"This was your idea, kid." And Sirius too. Remus was less surprised by Sirius' presence, but it was only his desperate solitude that made him even consider speaking to him. "It'll be worth it."

His first reaction to hearing Harry in this dreadful place was despair, but when they came into view Remus wondered if he really had gone mad after all. Harry and Sirius looked the same as ever, but walking beside them were two small tigers.

"What-?" The sound of his voice had the entire party looking his way. Harry smiled warmly, but before she could respond the tigers began to whine and growl and make the most adorably pathetic roars whilst trying to hide themselves behind Harry's legs.

"Hey, it's ok, it's ok." She tried to calm them, but it didn't take long before they were trying to climb up her. And they were heavy, and sharp. "Ow, don't worry, it's ok. Ah, no no, Coco. Down you go-" She just managed to unhook her waist from between Coco's paws, when Aniseed raised his head from her shoulder and began to hiss down menacingly. She gave up, quickly handing the snake over to Sirius, before heading out with a quick, "Be right back."

Remus watched, bewildered, as the tigers ran after her. Unable to do anything else, he laughed lightly. Was it possible to lose your mind within just a few minutes?

"I think they sussed you, Moony." Sirius tried to joke.

With a quick shake of his head, Remus looked to his treacherous friend and furrowed his brows. He wanted to cry and shout and hug the other man. "Are you here to get me out?" He already knew the answer, so the question came out more like a challenge. Now that the monotony had been broken he didn't think he could bear one more day alone in this place. It felt worse somehow.

"I can't." Sirius sounded genuinely pained to say it, but Remus didn't have any pity to spare. That answer alone broke something within him as that faintest of hope was snatched away.

"Can't or won't?" He accused, causing Sirius to sigh sadly.

Cowardly though it may be, Sirius had been relieved Harry would be here for this confrontation, but now… what was taking her so long?! "Can't!" He demonstrated by shaking the barred door. There wasn't even a physical lock to break, and he was sure this whole area would be warded somehow.

"Then why are you here?"

"To see you, to visit, to apologise. I don't know!" He really didn't. It seemed that today was the day the Dark Lord finally saw fit to inform Harry about Remus. Sirius had a feeling He had only done so to get Harry back in the same room as Sirius without turning bright red. It seemed to be working.

When Harry had come to say she knew where Remus was, Sirius assumed this meant he was now permitted to see his old friend – he'd been around Harry and the Dark Lord for long enough to know how these things worked, and Voldemort never gave Harry things just to take them away. "I'm sorry."

Remus scoffed, but he didn't know whether to fight or cry or just reach out to touch Sirius because traitor or not he was _someone_ and he was talking to him…

"I would have been here sooner if I could."

"Your master had you leashed, did he?" Remus sneered – it wasn't his style, but he was afraid that if he shut up or shouted Sirius would leave.

"Yes." Sirius replied confidently. While of course his submission to the Dark Lord would always kindle shame, he would much rather Remus knew that he was restrained from seeing him, than believe he had chosen not to. "I'm sorry. I am. I'm sorry I didn't keep my mouth shut and I'm sorry you ended up in here. Will you let me explain?"

"If you think it will soothe your conscience." Remus said quietly. He wanted to shout 'yes!' He wanted Sirius to keep talking, and he wanted to understand.

Sirius didn't know where to start, but took a deep breath and tried anyway, "The Dark Lord had Harriet. And she, she adores him –"

"He killed her parents!" Remus cut it, unable to believe such a thing.

"Well, yeh, when you put it like that…" He'd spend the past two months rehearsing ways to explain all this, and now Sirius couldn't remember how any of that had gone. "But the way she tells it, he also saved her life. I don't know how or when, but –"

"And you let her believe that?! For heaven's sake Padfoot, she's a little girl – "

"You don't know!" Sirius ran a hand through his hair – maybe there was no way to explain this, "You haven't been here. You haven't seen _Him."_ Remus would never believe the way Voldemort treated Harry, there were times even Sirius still struggled to accept it, "But besides all that, what should I have done?! Taken on the Dark Lord and all his followers and 'rescued' Harry? I'm good Remus, but I'm not that good! Or maybe I should have left her behind?!"

"You shouldn't have left a friend here alone!" Remus finally raised his voice – his anger appearing in an instant, though he was already trying to pull himself together.

"I'm sorry. If I'd come, it would have only made things worse."

"Worse? Merlin Sirius, how? Total isolation; wanting to shout or sing, just to hear; reciting entire conversations in your mind, reciting books, just for stimulus; staring at the same walls day in, day out; it does things to the mind."

"You think _I_ don't know that?!" Sirius shot back, half in disbelief, half in anger. "You've had a few months. Try six and a half years of it, and then times your mental torment by a thousand because you're surrounded by _Dementors_! And you think the Dark Lord forgetting about you for a few months is bad?! You have absolutely no idea how creative he can be, how much I've –" He heard the door open and cut himself off, taking a quick step back and forcing himself to calm down.

"Sorry about that. I should have realised they'd sense your, erm, furry little problem." Harry joked, before noticing the atmosphere. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Remus spoke first, his voice back to his normal soft tone. "I'm just starting to understand how much I've underestimated what Padfoot has been through." It didn't excuse what was going on now, but it helped.

"But, you're ok?" Her worried eyes darted between the two men. They looked fine, but she knew that wasn't always a good indicator.

"Of course we are." Sirius said, though he could clearly see she didn't believe him. With a concerned frown, Harry turned and pulled open Remus' cell door.

Both men shared a look, before Remus wasted no further time and stepped out into the hallway.

"Harry, how did you… I mean why… you aren't afraid I'll escape?" He asked stupidly.

Harry laughed. "No. Come on, I don't like it down here."

Sirius took Remus' question more seriously, because as much as he would love to spring his friend, there was no longer anywhere in western Europe for him to hide, so while the Dark Lord was content to keep Remus alive, Sirius was happy to let this play out His way.

Harry was half way out before he spoke up. "Harry, I don't think this is a good idea." She turned back with a smile. The worry was easy to read on their faces and in a strange way, it made her feel happy – like she was surrounded by family, because all three of them were thinking of the best interests of each other.

Fortunately for them, Harry was very responsible for her age. "*Ani, threaten Sirius.*" She hissed.

Aniseed raised his head and fanned out his hood in front of Sirius' face, hissing threateningly, with venom dripping from his exposed fangs. Sirius took a slow step back, even though the snake was around his neck. The point was made: Aniseed was quick as lightning when he struck – nobody was getting away if Harry didn't want them to. And besides that, if Sirius still couldn't leave BWL without permission, it was likely the Dark Lord had made sure Remus couldn't either.

She gave them a cheeky grin and stepped up to take Aniseed back with soothing hisses. "Let's go." As far as it had to do with her, neither Remus or Sirius would ever come down here again! Tom knew this, so she was confident He planned for Remus' future outside of these horrid musty walls.

* * *

 **I'm so sorry for the delays. Please bear with me. xx**


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